Out of the Past
by ilexx
Summary: Something involving Thalia...
1. Awakenings rude

I don't own anything Andromeda.

Set sometime after SoI and definitely not ep-related.

**Out of the Past**

1. _Awakenings – rude_

The buzz of the communicator inserted in the night-table – as fitting for the five star-establishment he was in, one of those fancy things with a far too crowded panel with far too many functions – was, although discreet, sufficiently persistent to rouse him enough to make him fumble around, blinded by the pillow he had buried his head under, his fingers hitting one after another the planetary news transmitter, the music program and the room service link before finally touching the right pad that connected him with the so very insistent reception.

"Yeah...?" he inquired hoarsely.

"Captain Hunt, I'm sorry to disturb you, Sir. But I'm afraid that your fiancée is on her way up to see you..."

"My..." His head came up from below the pillow and he began shaking it, trying to chase away the fogginess around it. "My fiancée...?" he inquired sheepishly.

"Yes," the receptionist answered affably, "at least I assumed she was... The lady one often sees in the headlines accompanying you to various events..." he further elaborated with a slight cough.

"Oh..." 

_Damn'! **Beka**!_ What was she doing here? He was off duty for at least one more week... Still not in a fully operational mode, Dylan Hunt grabbed for his chron that he had rid himself of last night and that was now also resting on the small table: yep, the date was right, he hadn't mixed things up, he had one more week of vacation. Which didn't change anything about the fact that his XO, Captain Rebekkah Valentine, was on her way up and... In a slight panic, he began gathering a blanket around himself, attempting to stand up and reach the pile of discharged clothes, but before he could further act on his intentions, the door burst open and Beka strode in past a somewhat startled maid, who had let her in by using her code.

"Oh, but Ma'am, you said..."

"Never mind, my dear. Everything is all right," Beka calmed her down with a huge, beaming smile and firmly closed the door after pressing some thrones into the woman's fingers. Still radiant, she then turned back and let her eyes wander through the spacious room and to the bed, in which Dylan still sat with blankets all around his waist, a slack jaw and a look of utterly embarrassed puzzlement on his face.

"B... Beka..." he stammered.

She chuckled at his astonishment, her grin broadening even further – impossible as this would have seemed. With quick steps she approached the pile of clothing and reached for them.

"Good morning! Rise and shine, my lovely! Vacation is over," she told him, suppressed laughter evident in her voice. She picked up his trousers and a sweater to throw it to him, but then her thumb and index held a laced, black garter in front of her, that she pretended to scrutinise carefully. "Interesting! Changing your style? A bit... kinky maybe, but why not?"

"Beka..." he growled, frowning.

It was in this moment that the mass of blankets next to him began to move, finally revealing a very beautiful, very naked brunette attempting to grasp whatever seemed to be going on around her.

"Ah, that explains it..." Beka exclaimed cheerfully.

"Dylan," the young woman asked, blinking rapidly into the morning sun, "what's going on?"

"Wouldn't we all like to know?" he said in a rumbling voice, finally snatching the sweater from Beka's hand and plunging into it. "Beka, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm picking you up. If you don't like surprises, you shouldn't have kept incommunicado. We've been trying to reach you for the past two days."

"Why, what happened?"

"Remember the prototype for the new force-lance with extreme wide-range? The one we got for testing the day before you left?"

He nodded, grabbing for his pants and cumbersomely re-arranging the blankets to protect himself from view while sliding into them.

"Yeah, what about it?" he asked, clearing his throat. "Beka, would you mind...?"

"Oh, stop fussing, Dylan..."

"Dylan!" the brunette suddenly interrupted, sounding more than annoyed. "What's going on? Who is this?"

Beka grinned down on her.

"Would you believe his sister? Hi there, you must be Amanda, he's already told me so much about you... This must be yours," she added friendly, letting the laced strap dangle in front of the woman's face. "Is there more you need or..."

"Beka!" Dylan exclaimed exasperated, finally in his trousers and getting to his feet.

"My name is Lucy," the brunette said in an irritated tone. "And you don't look anything like his sister..."

"Oops, sorry, Lucy, I must have lost track somewhere! And: we might not look alike, but we share the same inner values and principles!" Beka replied as annoyingly cheerful as before.

"Beka!" Dylan almost yelled at her while looking searchingly around him. "The prototype!"

"Ah, yes, that! If you're looking for your socks and boots – they're next to the door... The prototype, right. It's been stolen, Dylan. Rhade and me took the _Maru_ to Terrazed, to test it in the Plakia Heights. Afterwards we went out to grab something to eat and were attacked, while someone broke into the _Maru_ and stole it..."

"What? Are you all right?" he asked, straightening up after having found his footwear.

"Yeah, we're fine... But there is some senator or other coming over to the _Andromeda_ to investigate the matter."

"Dylan, what's going on?" a plaintive question came again from the bed. Boots in hand, he marched back to it and sat down.

"I'm sorry, Lucy. I have to go," he told the young woman, gently removing a rebel lock of dark hair from her face. "I'll have someone come to grab my stuff and bring you breakfast... I'll call you, all right?"

"Yes," she agreed a bit pouting, "but... who is she?"

"She is Beka Valentine," he answered smiling, his index briefly touching her nose.

"Yes, but..." he sighed.

"Lucy, whatever is going on and she really are no concern of yours," he sighed, letting his meanwhile socked feet slide into his boots and bending down to fasten them.

"But who IS she?" the woman demanded to know once more. "You... **you** seem pretty concerned..."

"Told ya'! It's his big brother-mode," a grinning Beka came to his rescue.

"Dammit, woman, cut it out, will ya'?" Dylan admonished her, grabbing for her hand and dragging her along with him while storming out of the room. "You've had enough fun for one morning. Bye, Lucy, sorry again, I'll call you..." he threw over his shoulder on his way out.

"Yeah, sure he will, maybe the three of us can do lunch, Mandy... err, I mean: Lucy!" Beka told the woman, her head turned towards her while she was letting Dylan pull her along with him. "And really, I AM his baby-sister and don't you let anyone tell you something else!"


	2. Surprises huge

2. _Surprises – huge_

She had briefed him up on their way to the _Eureka Maru_, but there was not much more that she could tell him other than what she already had. If anything at all could be added, it was merely the fact that the weapons they had tested were indeed awesome, faster, more precise, easier to handle and much more deadly in their impact, each one of them able to create a disaster area in the hands of anyone willing to do so.

She could see by the expression on his face that he was not amused. In fact, by the look on Dylan's face Beka could tell to a dot what he was actually thinking: that it was his fault that the prototype had been stolen, that he should have been there, that once the unscheduled testing had been announced he should have cancelled his vacation, that – had he been there – the stupid new force-lance models had not been stolen, that…

Beka sighed angrily, inserting the codes securing her ship's entrance.

"Remind me," she told him as the doors opened, "to contact Rev and sort things out with him…"

Dylan followed her into the _Maru_, with furrowed brows.

"Rev? What things do you need to sort out with him?"

"Well, all those years the poor guy has spent praying in vain to some divine being – while all the time the only one responsible for everything happening in the universe is you, especially when it's going badly," she answered with a smirk. "Really, Dylan, do you always have to act as if you were the centre of… I don't know, everything? What do you think would have gone differently, had you been there? How would your presence have changed the outcome of matter?"

He grinned apologetically.

"I… don't know. It's just that with us back in grace with the Commonwealth for such a short time, I would have preferred for this not to happen, that's all. An investigation…" He sighed. "Yet **another** investigation, and…"

"Yes, I get your point," Beka interrupted him, while strapping herself into the _Maru_'s pilot seat, "it's regrettable, but since we didn't do anything wrong and you weren't even around, I don't quite see what they could bring up against us – other than maybe assign us to getting the damned things back, which would be only fair, right?"

"Much depends on that senator conducting the investigation," _Andromeda_'s captain mused. "Who is it?"

"No idea," Beka dismissed his concern. "With a bit of luck, it's just another posh retard or other…"

"You mean like Tri-Lorn or Charlemagne Bolivar?" Dylan asked amused.

The blonde grinned.

"Touché," she acquiesced, both of them aware that the afore mentioned figures were hiding an astute intelligence as well as superb power- and survival instincts under their polished, slightly decadent facades. "Still: whoever he is, stop beating yourself up on this. That's an order, soldier!"

Into the deafening silence that had descended onto the _Andromeda_'s briefing room, one could almost hear Dylan's grinding jaws.

"Dismissed," he ordered curtly, in a low voice. "Everyone but Beka."

Surprised, she lifted her eyes from the table to look at him over the commotion created by Rommie, Trance, Rhade and Harper pushing back their seats, standing up and leaving. When meeting the captain's eyes, Beka's already somehow off-warding features seemed to close up even more.

Dylan clenched his teeth even tighter. He hated that look on her face. In fact, there were but few things in his life he hated more; Magog-attacks and black holes came instantly to mind, but other than that he would have had trouble coming up with one more thing he dreaded more than seeing Beka's eyes gain that harsh, cautious, distrusting, slightly mean and at the same time hurt gaze they were displaying now, seeing the generous, normally always ready-to-grin mouth set in a thin, grim line. It was a sight that always spelled trouble, involving mostly some obscure figure or other from her colorful past, a relative or a boy-friend with non-existing ethics, long discharged scruples and in the long run deplorable manners, who mostly left Beka in distress and them all in mortal danger. The only thing different this time came from the fact that it did not involve a man – and that he had no idea what the life-threatening act would turn out to be. But that he never knew afore.

"Well?" the captain asked as soon as they were alone.

"Well what?"

"Senator Thalia of Oudekerk of the Royal House of Sangre. Who is she?"

"What makes you think I know?"

"Experience?" he offered, a wry smile on his lips.

Beka frowned at him, but didn't answer him further.

"Damn'!" With a short sneeze Dylan pushed himself up from the table and began pacing. "Beka, please! Judging by the look on your face she must be at least someone of Sam Profit's caliber."

"And that's why you're angry?"

"No," he retorted, his tone getting sharper. "I'm angry because I've seen how the others reacted. Trance found suddenly nothing more interesting than the ceiling, Harper kept staring at you with that awed look on his face he has when he thinks that you're about to deck everyone present, and even Rommie seemed to have seen a ghost, which – as we both know – she can't. And Rhade… **Rhade**!" he exclaimed pointedly, "whom you've known for less than a year, whom you can't stand, whom you don't trust so much as to let him fetch you a cup of coffee… Even Rhade knew! Tell me," Dylan demanded, "am I yet again the last, the very last one in all Three Galaxies to get the information on who this woman is and how she concerns you?"

"I…" Beka seemed to search for appropriate words, "I… didn't think that she… would ever be any concern of yours…"

"She's no concern of mine. But she's one of yours, it seems. And you," Dylan concluded as if delivering an obvious answer to a banal logic question, "**you** concern **me**! And I'm sick and tired of you pretending this to be amazing news to you."

There was a small, defeated sigh to be heard from Beka.

"You're right. I… I'm sorry. She is…" she hesitated.

"Well?"

"Thalia is my mother."

"Your what?" A dumbfounded expression on his face, his eyes wide and incredulous, Dylan let himself drop down back on his chair. "You… You have a mother?"

"Of course I have a mother. Everyone does…"

"No, I mean…"

"I know what you mean. Look, Dylan, she left almost a quarter of a century ago. We never heard of her again… I didn't think that she would ever cross my path, be of any importance to anyone of us…"

"And yet, the others knew…"

"They… found out from Aleiss – she recognized me, there were rumors on her wedding…" Beka tried to explain awkwardly. A sad smile blossomed on Dylan's lips, who shook his head self-deprecatingly.

"I really **am **the last one to find out, aren't I?…" Seeing her trying to contradict him, he made a dismissive gesture. "No, no, it's all right. But you know, it's not fair: you know everything there is to know about me. And after all this time, all I know about you I had to find out more or less by accident, by clandestine investigation, by forcing you to tell me…" He stopped.

"You had me investigated?" Beka immediately pierced into him. He shook his head.

"Not really. It was just…" He seemed at a loss for words, so she gave him time to gather his thoughts. An instant later he went on:

"It really isn't much. And I know nothing about Thalia…"

Beka smiled at him a little melancholically.

"We have that much in common," she told him quietly. Dylan nodded.

"How…" He cleared his throat, then began anew: "How do you want to play this?"

The young woman shrugged.

"I don't really want to play this at all. But…" She sighed. "By the book: she is a senator conducting an investigation, I am the XO of the _Andromeda Ascendant_, we'll just take it from there…" She stood up from the table. "Anything else you want to know?"

"No," Dylan answered pensively, clearly none too certain about his response. "She's due in one hour. If you don't want to, I can receive her on my own…"

"We'll have to meet anyway," Beka dismissed his offer. She smiled at him in a slightly encouraging manner. "Don't worry, Dylan. I'm gonna be just fine…"

He remained for a while seated after Beka had left the room.

"She's gonna be just fine…" he at long last repeated into the silent void.

"Captain…?" _Andromeda_'s hologram appeared in front of him.

"Hmm? Nothing, Rommie… Prepare the quarters for the senator and her escort!"

"I already have," the ship informed him crisply.

"Yes, of course you have," Dylan sighed annoyed.


	3. Observations close

Out of the Past 3

3. _Observations - close  
_

They were standing side by side at the entrance to the hangar-deck, Beka looking over at the small vessel secured some 100 meters away from them, Dylan looking down at his first officer. She seemed calm, composed.

_We're a long way from the day 'Uncle' Sid came aboard_, _Andromeda_'s captain thought to himself. Still: he didn't quite trust the calmness. When the tiny spacecraft's hatch opened to reveal three figures, who began to slowly move towards them and he more sensed than saw the woman next to him straightening up imperceptibly, standing even more erect, he felt his stomach tighten. Whether in sympathy for Beka or dread from a possible ugly scene ahead of them, that they could ill afford under the current circumstances, he didn't know himself – and didn't have the time to find out. Yet he did move closer to his friend, as close as possible even, leaving her slightly in front of himself, with her body covering half of his from sight. Protected from full view, he placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back.

Although she had been staring ahead of her to the small group of people approaching them almost as if hypnotized, Beka – feeling the steadying touch – briefly looked up to the tall man beside her. When she found him watching her with an earnest, inquiring expression on his face, she smiled at him in a way she hoped to be reassuring. To her own surprise, she found herself really almost as composed as she pretended to be, and having him standing by her that uncompromisingly added to her resolve to keep all of this strictly unemotional. For a brief moment though, she allowed herself to reach out with all senses to his reassuring presence, drawing strength from it. A quick thought passed her mind: _We're a long way from the day 'Uncle' Sid came aboard_.

"She looks… scary…" Beka heard Dylan whisper to her nearly inaudibly.

Returning her attention to the figure approaching them at a slow, majestic pace, followed by two Home Guard officers considerably taller than her (in fact, considerably taller than Dylan), Beka couldn't help a thin smile from spreading on her face. _I bet she had them hand-picked for their height_, she thought briefly, _just to intimidate the others_. It was what she would have done.

And then the small group had reached them. Not leaving his position, his one hand still pressing against Beka's back, Dylan extended his right hand, smiled and cleared his throat:

"Senator Thalia, welcome aboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_!"

"Thank you, Captain Hunt!" the older woman replied in a pleasant, surprisingly soft voice. "How… nice of you to have me." The slight hesitation made her sentence sound – although perfectly civil – both slightly ironic and intimidating, the empty politeness of the phrase emphasizing the fact that they really had no choice in the matter.

_Dylan is right_, Beka thought, _she IS scary_. Pensively she mustered the complete stranger in front of her, trying to find something – **anything** – familiar in the figure she saw. There was nothing, though.

To both officers' surprise, Thalia of Oudekerk was petite, delicate to the point of frailty, an impression stressed further by the contrast to the huge men behind her. Almost a head shorter than Beka, with an eerily pale skin and soft, dark curls streaked with white framing a heart-shaped, small face of strangely youthful prettiness and governed by enormous dark eyes, she reminded Dylan more of Rafe than of his sister. The only thing she seemed to have in common with her daughter was a similar taste in clothing: like Beka often used to, she was displaying a tightly cut pantsuit, that left no detail of her silhouette to imagination.

With a soft, crystalline chuckle and an ironic grin that suddenly seemed to crack her face open into various directions, for the first time showing a resemblance to Beka, she diverted her attention from the man to the woman in front of her:

"Wonderful to see you, Becky," she said, not attempting to touch or embrace her, but her voice losing the distant, ironic undertone she had used on Dylan and gaining depth, warmth and sincerity. "You look great!"

_Oh, she's good_! Beka thought, a bit caught off-guard by the sudden emotionality the older woman had, after the cool-ish start, dumped on her somewhat unexpectedly.

"It's… wonderful to see you, too…" she replied, leaving the sentence a bit open, the word 'Mother' lingering somewhere in the air, but refusing to appear. And then she attacked.

Stepping forward and away from Dylan's comforting hand, Beka smiled down on Thalia one of her beaming, huge trademark grins that she knew to leave everyone a bit helpless and under her spell, and – arms opened wide – enveloped the senator in something that, due to the difference in height, came close to a bear hug.

After a first, startled moment Thalia of Oudekerk returned the embrace. _She's very good_, a quick assessment of Beka's flashed by. For just a short, brief instant her heart skipped a beat, a moment during which a cautious expression passed on her face like a quick cloud, that she suppressed almost instantaneously. Dylan didn't miss it, though.

_Oh my God_, he thought, _here we go! It has started – and they're both damn' good!_

Annoyed, he tried to hold down the uneasy feeling he felt beginning to spread through him from somewhere at the back of his head and cleared his throat anew:

"Senator…"

"Yes, Captain?" Breaking up the embrace both women turned to him, with Beka still keeping an arm casually thrown around her mother's shoulders.

"May we show you to your and your escort's quarters?"

"Oh, thank you, but if you don't mind I think I'd much prefer it to have Becky accompany me there…" She didn't add the word 'alone', but her demeanor left no doubt about what she had meant, while a slightly steely undertone creeping anew into her voice indicated that she expected her wishes to be met without objections.

For a second Dylan stood very still, staring blankly at the tiny woman, but then he nodded, throwing Beka a quick glance. Smiling one of those inconspicuous, vague smiles of his, that always made him look deceptively debonair and harmless, but that – as his XO knew – were just a highly effective mask to hide the fact that he was on his guard, Andromeda's captain bowed slightly and stepped aside.

"Certainly. I imagine that you have a lot of catching up to do," his voice giving no indication about how much it actually annoyed him to be ordered around aboard his own ship.

"Exactly," Thalia agreed, smiling back and turning away to leave the hangar-deck, followed by her escort.

Behind their backs Dylan allowed himself another glance at Beka, a warm, a bit worried look. She smiled briefly, but reassuringly, to which he nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Indeed we have a lot to catch up on," she acquiesced serenely, adding with a grin and softly squeezing his arm: "And we will…"

_Great_… Dylan thought wearily. _That's just perfect. I'm so glad to hear that._ But he refrained from saying anything else aloud, resigning himself to look after Beka hurrying up after Thalia.

He kept staring ahead long after they had disappeared from sight, then sighed.

"_Andromeda_," he said.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Keep an eye on the senator, please."

"Yes, Captain."

He turned around to leave towards Command, but then hesitated.

"_Andromeda_?"

"Yes, Captain…"

"A close eye, yes?" he added.

His ship's hologram flickered into existence next to him.

"Dylan, relax. Of course I'm keeping a close eye on her and her companions."

Dylan frowned at her.

"A very close eye, Rommie," he insisted before finally turning around and leaving, aware that the hologram was staring after him.

"Aye, Captain," he heard while escaping the piercing gaze that he could feel drilling at his back by rounding the next corner, but then flinched as she reappeared right in front of him.

"Dammit, Rommie! Don't do that!" he exclaimed.

"You're jumpy," the hologram informed him.

"Yes, I know," he answered. "And for no reason at all," he concluded sarcastically.

The image delicately raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't you a bit overreacting? It's as if you were expecting to see blood flowing."

He smirked lopsidedly, shrugging, but refrained from saying anything. _Andromeda _eyed him pensively, arms crossed on her chest.

"You ARE overreacting, Dylan. Senator Thalia isn't even armed."

He wheezed derisively.

"Oh, she IS armed all right!"


	4. Assumptions brief

4. _Assumptions – brief_

Beka led the way displaying a detached, self-assured, at-ease way while walking Thalia towards her quarters.

"What about your luggage?" she inquired politely, thinking this to be as good an opening to a casual first scanning of her unknown mother as any.

"Just let someone fetch the few things I need from the _Star of Nephtis_," Thalia replied in an uninterested tone.

The blonde nodded.

"Where is it to be found?"

"Oh, all over the place; I'll make a list of what I need…"

The captain of the _Eureka Maru_ frowned.

"You don't have it together in a case then?"

"Oh no!" her mother exclaimed. "It's… well, everywhere really. You see, _Nephtis_ is my private barge."

_Goodness!_ Beka had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. _Private barge!_ _Who does she think she is, Cleopatra?_

"I… see," she remarked dryly.

Surprised and slightly amused, Thalia looked at her from the side.

"Well, it is much easier that way; whenever I have to leave on a mission like this, I don't need to lose any time packing and unpacking stuff…"

"That you would, of course, be doing all by yourself…" Beka remarked ironically.

"That I wouldn't do all by myself, but that would still cost time. Supervising the ones meant to do one's work is time-consuming, too. Don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know," her daughter replied with a sweet smile on her lips, that just stopped short of her eyes. "You see, I never had someone doing my work to supervise."

"Touché," Thalia acknowledged, slightly bowing her head.

"Anyway," Beka continued in a conversational tone, "if you already have a list, I can pass it through to _Andromeda_, she'll take care of everything else…"

"Thank you," the older woman replied, holding out a flat data-pad to her. "As a matter of fact, I do have one."

Taking it from her, Beka stepped up to one of the monitors integrated into the bulkhead at the intersection of four corridors and inserted the thin crystal into it.

"_Andromeda_!" she said.

"Yes, Captain Valentine?" The monitor lit up, showing _Andromeda_'s face.

"Could you please have those items fetched from the _Star of Nephtis_ and brought over to the senator's quarters?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Thank you, Rommie," Beka replied, finishing the brief conversation. "Shall we continue?" she asked, resuming the walk." By the way, in case you need anything else while onboard, don't hesitate to address _Andromeda_ directly. You will find her very helpful and solicitous."

Thalia of Oudekerk had watched the short exchange with mild, yet undoubtedly surprised curiosity.

"Captain?" she asked lowly.

Beka threw her an amused glance.

"What?"

"Your ship," her mother said. "She is calling you 'Captain'."

"Well, I am a captain…"

"Yes, but your captain…"

"…is **the** captain," Beka interrupted her. "I am his XO and otherwise the captain of the _Eureka Maru_. I do as he tells me onboard the _Andromeda_, he does what I tell him when we're on the _Maru_…"

"Sounds complicated…"

_It is_, _Andromeda_'s core – monitoring the conversation held in her main corridors – thought, but preferred to keep silent.

Beka shrugged.

"We manage…"

"Yes, I bet you do," Thalia replied, slightly stretching the words, receiving a weighing look from her daughter.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," the fragile looking woman dodged the question. "But I have to admit: your captain surprises me," she continued with an affable smile.

Beka kept her distance – and her guard, refusing to let herself be lured in by the charm. Se kept quiet. A little disappointed to not be questioned on her remark, Thalia drew a deep breath:

"I mean," she began anew, "I was told he is nice, but I would not have expected such a… regular chap/gentleman farmer kind of fellow…" she concluded, chuckling lightly.

Beka couldn't prevent herself from laughing up.

"Tell me," she asked in a voice lightly trembling with suppressed amusement, "did you just insult him?"

"I don't know," Thalia offered. "Did I?"

Beka stopped her stride, looking at her with an appreciative gleam in her eyes.

"I just had this vision of Dylan up to his elbows in dirt, kneeling in Hydroponics, a straw hat on his head, obeying Trance's orders."

"Trance?" her mother asked.

"Never mind," Beka brushed her off, "you will meet her later… Anyway, since you were already told that he is so…" she had to chuckle briefly, "**nice** – what **were** you expecting?"

Thalia smiled dreamily.

"I don't know," she admitted, "maybe someone… a bit larger than life?"

"What, like them?" the pilot laughed, her head indicating the two men following them in respectful distance.

"No, not like them," the older woman conceded. "They're not larger than life, they're just…" She seemed to be searching for the right word.

"Big?" Beka suggested helpfully.

Thalia nodded with a grin.

"Yes, big."

"Does it accomplish anything? I mean: is it working?"

"What do you mean, Becky?"

"Your pretty boys over there…"

"Pretty boys **always** work…"

_Go figure_, Beka thought amazed. _Looks like we do have at least __**some**__ things in common…_

They had in the meantime reached the guest quarters.

"This is your suite," _Andromeda_'s XO informed the senator. "On the left and right of it are the quarters of your escort, unless of course you prefer…" She left the sentence unfinished.

An amused glimmer in the depths of the dark eyes, Thalia of Oudekerk shook her head.

"No, thank you. It is perfect that way." The two men received her curt nod and retreated.

"Right," Beka concluded, all of a sudden eager to get away and be for a while on her own, "should you need anything else: you can always contact _Andromeda_. We are a bit short-handed at present, most of the crew is planet-side for as long as we are in dry-dock and the ones onboard are actually engineers assigned just to perform their tasks relating to overhauling the ship and don't really know their way around to help you. You will have to rely on the Maria-bots. So it may take a while, but _Andromeda_ is usually very efficient, even under such circumstances." She offered Thalia a flexi. "These are the codes to everything in your quarters, along with the schedule…"

"The schedule?"

"Well, yes…" the young woman drawled. "The investigation? I set the first questioning of me and Lieutenant Commander Rhade for this afternoon at 15:00h. I thought that would give you enough time onboard to accommodate yourself…"

"Ah yes," Thalia interrupted. "I actually would like to meet you all, if you don't mind…"

Beka frowned.

"Us all? Rhade and me were the only ones who had anything to do with it at all. Dylan had already taken his leave…"

"Well, you see," her mother interrupted her, her voice sounding apologetically and determined at once, "this for instance is already something I would like to see cleared…"

"What do you mean?" Beka asked with narrowed eyes, stepping aside from the doors to let her mother pass.

"There is information that he was still onboard when the order came to start testing those lances and that he only left afterwards…"

"Now hold it right there!" the _Maru_'s captain exclaimed, but then tightly pressed her lips together in a rushed attempt to not lose her temper. "Captain Hunt, Lieutenant Harper and Lieutenant Trance Gemini," she then said, stressing their all ranks, "had nothing to do with it…"

Thalia smiled thinly.

"I'm sure you're right. Still: this IS an investigation. So, do you think you can arrange it for them all to be there? Please?"

For a moment the dark and the blue eyes locked in silent contest. But then Beka's face relaxed and a polite smile appeared on her lips.

"But of course, Senator… We will all meet you then. If you will excuse me now?"

Her mother nodded.

"Certainly, my dear. And don't worry, Becky: this really is only a routine inquiry. You don't have anything to fear from me and neither has your captain. This is of course strictly off record and speaking as your mother…"

It took Beka by surprise.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked unbelievingly.

Thalia watched her with a warm, fond expression on her face.

"Well, I AM your mother, dear… As your captain mentioned, we may have a lot of catching up to do – and this business to take care of, but that doesn't mean that…"

"Doesn't mean that what?" Beka cut in sharply. "That we can't squeeze in some bonding? After almost 25 years?"

"I am here to help, Becky. "

"Help? Help with what?" Rebekkah Valentine withdrew a few steps, as if wanting to put some distance between her and the older woman, scrutinizing her sharply. "Are they again after Dylan?"

Thalia furrowed her brow.

"'They'? Who would 'they' be, Becky?"

Beka shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know… The Collectors, the Abyss, the Templars, the Genites, some triumvir or other, one of our… 'esteemed' Nietzschean allies…"

The Commonwealth senator mustered her intensively.

"You really are worried," she finally concluded. "And you're fond of him… And you do not trust me! But you can, you know… You can trust me on this one, you can trust me with Rhade, with yourself, with Dylan Hunt…"

Beka stared at her, baffled.

"I'm not big on trust," she then informed her curtly.

"You seem to be trusting at least someone," Thalia replied. Beka laughed up:

"Dylan? I KNOW Dylan,…" she hesitated, but then added ironically: "Mother! I know him about as well as I know myself – and most of the time I like **him** a hell of a lot better. You on the other hand I do not know at all… If we would have met on some drift or other, I wouldn't even have recognized you. Trust **you**? With myself, with Rhade, with **Dylan**? I don't trust Dylan with Dylan, much as I may trust him with everything else…"

"Yes, for all I've heard," the senator admitted, "you…"

But before she could continue, Beka interrupted her rudely:

"I don't care what you heard. 15:00h, Senator. We'll all be there."


	5. Problems manifold

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. They're highly appreciated.

A/N2: Dear Mudfoot, I couldn't agree with you more. As a matter of fact I do have a beta-reader for a very long story of mine, but guess what: he has a life of his own. He is a dear friend, a wonderful writer and a great help for me, which means that I would hate to impose on him anymore than I do already. So, much as I regret: you will have to either put up with my mistakes (it is gradually getting better though, albeit slowly - I admit) or just look for some other fics out there less offending to your sense for proper English.

_5. Problems – manifold_

"How lovely of you all to be so generous with your time."

Seated at the head of the long conference table in _Andromeda_'s briefing room, Senator Thalia of Oudekerk smilingly let a friendly gaze wander over the faces of all the people present.

Occupying the place at the table's other head, Dylan Hunt was leaning back in his chair, appearing remarkably relaxed. On his right was Beka, seemingly just as much at ease as he was, although her eyes were rather challenging, while his looked more expecting. Next to her sat Lieutenant Commander Telemachus Rhade, his face an impenetrable, completely expressionless mask. Sitting exactly across from him was the strangest, most amazing beauty Thalia had ever seen: she had been introduced to her as Trance Gemini, medical and environment officer onboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_ – and the senator had, of course, previous to her arrival onboard read all available information on the people she was called upon to investigate. Still: the young girl, who was looking at her out of dark, warm, wide-open, inquiring eyes seemed to everyone in the Commonwealth (including her fellow officers, as Thalia suspected) a perfect mystery. One of the many mysteries surrounding this so very peculiar crew. Standing slightly behind Captain Hunt with arms behind her back, the inscrutable expression on the face of _Andromeda_'s avatar added to this impression.

Placed between his captain and Trance Gemini, Lieutenant Seamus Zelasny Harper was however fidgeting on his seat, the only one appearing not alone far from any form of calmness as displayed by the others, but even throwing quick, furtive, evasive glances all around the place, like a frightened small animal eager to break free. Her smile deepening, the senator decided to begin with him, her huge, dark eyes fixing him almost hypnotically. But before she could address him, Beka leaned forward in her seat:

"Why don't we make this easier? Before you jump to conclusions, Senator, a word of friendly advice: don't mind Harper, he isn't uncomfortable, he isn't displaying a bad conscience, it's nothing but a minor case of an – admittedly severe – addiction to Sparky Cola."

"Hey!" the engineer protested in a high-pitched voice, "I want to see you working for 36 hours without a break..."

"36 hours and no break? Is that usual here onboard?" Thalia cut in, using the sentence as an opening to enter the game. Harper bit his lips, while Beka threw a look sideways at Dylan, her smile broadening. As expected, the captain didn't miss on the opportunity to set matters straight.

"If you check the logs, you'll find that we've just come out of battle with a Magog satellite ship that... well, had nearly managed to do us in, Ma'am!" he explained in an even tone.

"Ah yes," Thalia replied, throwing a quick glance to the flexi in her hands as if checking the truth of his statement. "We lost the planet Birrin in the process, haven't we?"

"Actually no," Beka hooked into the conversation. "The colonists had abandoned it already when I arrived there with a landing party of lancers, but we managed to locate and evacuate most of them to safe places..."

"I wasn't talking about the colonists," the senator admonished her quietly. Satisfied, she noticed a puzzled look settling on the faces of all people present.

"Hang on a sec'" Harper's exclaimed, sounding bewildered, "Birrin is a rock in space, in need of major terraforming in order to get something remotely life-supporting up and running... The way I see it, the only thing that mattered was to save those people's lives."

"Indeed, Mr. Harper, a commendable goal of which I highly approve," Thalia agreed politely. "Unfortunately, the terraforming process was well on its way, the project already in development for about 8 months. That would be..." Again she threw a checking look to her flexi. "Well, billions of thrones really, that we spent in vain."

"It's just money," Beka objected.

Turning her attention to her, Thalia let a brief sparkle of irony shine through in her eyes.

"Coming from a Valentine, this is a remarkable statement, my dear..." She smiled, seeing her daughter pressing her lips together. "Anyway," she continued smoothly, "I am part of the parliamentary commission our new triumvir, Tri-Taras Barkas out of Athena by Kamehameha, has installed, that is to look into reducing our financial losses with our military forces."

Rhade frowned.

"Taras Barkas?" he asked sharply.

"Yes, Commander."

"Of the Vineta-pride?"

"Exactly," Thalia confirmed, scrutinising the dark face closely. "You don't approve?"

"They're pirates."

"They've been accepted into the Commonwealth."

"Yes, because they helped deliver Tyr Anasazi into our hands, only to then sell the information about the ship transporting him to Terrazed to the Collectors, who then sold it back to Tyr's renegade prides."

"We don't have proof for that, Rhade," Dylan warned in a low voice.

"We've investigated the matter thoroughly, Commander," Thalia explained, "and there was indeed no solid proof for that. Still, being quite aware of the... subtleties of the matter, we have decided to put the suspicions at rest. That's why we appointed one of them as a new triumvir to serve for the rest of the legislative period until the next elections since we were a triumvir short. I thought you knew..."

"When did this happen?" Rommie inserted politely. "May I access the _Nephti_'s files for a news update?"

"Certainly. I have already instructed my escort to deliver all mail, news, briefings and so on to you, _Andromeda_. I'm sorry if it didn't reach you. Anyway, Taras took office only six weeks ago. It seemed like a good idea. You know, create loyalty by sharing responsibility."

"By all means, let's share responsibility with Nietzschean pirates," Harper snorted angrily. "This way we can at least be sure to know when the Commonwealth will **again** be finished. Which, if I may venture an educated guess, will probably be by lunchtime tomorrow..."

"Calm down, Mr. Harper," Dylan casually threw in. "It seems as if it's working. After all, according to the senator's information, one of his first acts was to install a commission looking after Commonwealth assets, right?"

"Exactly, Captain Hunt. Which brings us to the problem at hand: losing Birrin was a substantial financial loss, considering the time, effort and money invested in the development of the prototypes, so were the forcelances. And I do have to admit that it has come to our attention that Andromeda's expenses, her... propensity to consume the Commonwealth's..." She didn't get to continue.

"I am the vanguard of the High Guard fleet," Rommie interrupted pointedly. "I am on a constant mission to secure the outposts of Commonwealth territory, I am assigned to the most dangerous, extracurricular missions, I am operating with a skeleton crew. What am I supposed to do when I have to engage the Commonwealth's enemies in battle? Throw stones at them?"

"_Andromeda_, we do realise your dedication to the cause, but this is not our only concern. Here," she said, shoving a small number of flexis towards them all, "take a look at that. It's a list of all military equipment that got lost onboard between the time of your... withdrawal after your trial, Captain, and your return as part of the Commonwealth-fleet. It only mentions the items that got lost somehow, it doesn't even have the losses caused in battle situations."

They all began to read the data in front of them. Finally, Dylan threw the flexi on the table and looked up.

"These are minor losses, usual stuff: forcelance, guns, wrist-communicators, small things really, of which I'm sure that most of them were simply misplaced by someone or other in the crew. Nothing spectacular..."

Thalia raised her eyebrows.

"So what do you suggest, Captain? That we wait until some spectacular 'misplacement' occurs? What would qualify? A slipfighter? A nova? Or should we wait until you lose an entire ship of the line?"

"Now look, lady..." Harper began.

"Senator," Thalia thundered in a voice suddenly so loud it made Harper – along with everyone else – twitch.

"I... I'm sorry..." the young man stammered.

"It's all right."

"No," Beka threw in sharply. "No, it's not all right. I admit that having those lances stolen from us was stupid. And I admit that it's serious enough to justify an investigation. But coming here and grilling us by questioning every move we ever made is not the way to do it. It would have been far more efficient if you had properly investigated the assault on us on Terrazed, that smelled of a set-up, if you had followed traces, conducted inquiries and so on..." she stated, staring coldly and accusingly at her mother. The older woman smiled again.

"You're right. And you know what, Becky? We did. We even found out that one of the prototypes has been put up for auction to the highest bidder on the black market..."

Dylan laughed disconcerted.

"But... but then what is this farce all about?"

"It's about giving you and your crew a chance, Captain, to repair the damage. We have solid information that indeed there is someone interested in the proliferation of high-tech weaponry..."

"Of course there is," Rhade exploded into her explanation, "but it doesn't really make sense that someone would rather be interested in no matter how sophisticated weapons for hand-to-hand combat than in nova bombs and the like."

"Yes, it does if you leave in an environment where every tiny explosion can turn an entire system into a disaster area."

Both Dylan's and Beka's eyes narrowed.

"Did you find out who is trying to get them?" the captain asked quietly.

"Yes," Thalia confirmed pensively. "We followed the tracks of those lances..."

"Whereto?" Beka inquired. "Come on, spit it out! Where do they lead to?"

Thalia of Oudekerk shook her head lightly, looking rather satisfied. She had them right where she wanted them. She smiled again:

"To the Prolon-system. We hear you're familiar with it. We trust you will succeed to retrieve the prototypes you lost, then. How you want to do this... I don't want to know. Gentlemen, ladies, that's it. You just volunteered for a new assignment. I think we're finished here."


	6. Opinions differing

_Opinions – differing_

Dylan sighed, seeing that Beka chose to remain seated although Thalia of Oudekerk had closed the meeting and was already heading for the doors. He took three tentative steps towards the senator, approaching the threshold of the briefing room, but that was as far as he got – as expected. To his surprise though, it wasn't his XO accosting him first.

"Captain, could I have a word with you, please?" _Rommie. Not a walk in the park, but still better than Beka,_ he thought relieved.

"Certainly, Rommie," he turned to her, suppressing only at the very last moment a sigh of relief. Which was just as well, since Beka's crystalline voice chose that very instant to stop his relaxation.

"Just a second, Rommie. Could you give us a minute alone first? I promise I won't keep him for too long..." she said in a painstakingly polite tone. _Not a good sign,_ Dylan mused, noticing Harper throwing him a sympathetic look before disappearing into the corridor that began to appear more and more attractive by the second. _Yep, not a good sign at all.  
_  
"Becky, I would like your company on the way back to my quarters. This ship is so huge," Thalia inserted in this very moment, turning back at the entrance towards the room she was just about to leave. A brief instant long Dylan thought he might be let off the hook, but the vague hope was only short-lived.

"After the stunt you just pulled, I find the gentle, older lady needing someone to walk her home a bit difficult to swallow..."

"You mean, I'm not that old?" the senator threw in with an almost flirtatious smile towards Dylan and Rhade, before looking back at her daughter.

"I mean you're not that gentle," Beka retorted sharply. "If you insist, however: you may wait for me outside. Like I said: it won't take long."

Her mother looked surprised.

"Beka, if you'd rather go now," Dylan grabbed the chance, "I can meet with you later in Command, in about one hour or so. And we can talk then..."

"We need to talk right now," his first officer insisted sternly.

On his way out of there, Rhade gave his captain a casual, slight, friendly and commiserative slap on the shoulder.

"Now or in one hour... What does it really matter?" he heard the Nietzschean whisper to him while passing him by.

_True_, Dylan thought resigning. Still. If he had to choose between now and later... He shook his head, incredulously. Almost one year onboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_ and Telemachus Rhade was in some respects still a rookie. When it came to being chewed out by Beka Valentine 'later' sounded great – as both Dylan and Harper could have easily and plausibly explained. From the corner of his eye, he saw Thalia drawing a breath. The faint hope stirred again. Maybe he got lucky...

"Becky..."

"I'm sorry, Senator," Beka though cut both her mother and Dylan's prospect of escape short, "pressing ship business. It really can't wait," she concluded briskly, remaining seated with determination – as if she was rooted to the spot.

_Nope, no luck, not this time..._

_Andromeda_'s captain waited for the senator and the last of the staff to leave, then turned around and regained his seat, with a last, longing look towards the closing doors. For the fraction of a second Beka felt an urge to laugh out loud, seeing the look on his face: chin and jaws firmly squared in Dylan's typical 'a man's got to do what a man's got to do'-mode battling and losing against the beginning of an insecure smile and a pair of saucer-eyed, blinking baby-blues.

"Sorry," she told him though in a voice devoid of all sympathy. "Am I keeping you from something terribly important?" she added ironically.

"Umm, no... Just... well, you heard... Rommie..." he stammered.

"Yeah," Beka commented dryly, "well, look at the bright side: while I am probably a lot less deferential and likely to get louder if I get really, really angry over the next minutes, at least I'm also a lot less likely to break your nose in the process..."

"Right," Dylan grinned, then grimaced, one corner of his mouth twitching to the side. "**Will **you get really angry?"

"I might. Why did you agree?"

"Look, Beka..."

"No, **you **look. The Prolon-system is the largest dump ground for hazardous waste in three galaxies, where most ships – including ours – can't navigate, can't run and can't fight..."

"Beka, I know..."

"That's what we have the regulations for, Dylan: no ship can be 'ordered' into the Prolon-system, one has to volunteer..."

"I know, Beka..."

"Well, if you know so much, then why the hell didn't you speak up when she... 'volunteered' us for the job?"

"Beka, last time when we ended up there, we did quite all right..."

"All right? We did **all right**?" _Andromeda_'s first officer exploded, jumping to her feet and starting to pace around, walking in circles around the table. "With a con-artist aka fake princess aka fake goddess onboard who had managed to steal just about all cash available in that stupid system, their entire police force, their royal guards, an aristocratic court, a tribunal and a bunch of worshipping monks chasing us around while everyone took turns shooting us with debris that was eating through _Andromeda_'s hull and threatening to cause a chain reaction blowing up the entire corner of the galaxy had we returned fire, I'd hardly say that we did all right!"

"Yes, of course, you're right, but..."

"But what? Which part of this whole amusing... smorgasbord of events do you particularly care to experience again? The acid dripping through our decks, that giant trying to dismember you or the firing squad stopped short about three seconds before they were about to shoot you?"

"Is there a point in my trying to answer you or would you rather rant on for an indefinite amount of time? I mean, you look magnificent when you're angry and I always enjoy the sight, but Rommie is also waiting to rip my head off, your mother wants another chat with you and..."

"Dylan!" she admonished him severely. "I'm serious..."

"So am I, Beka..."

"Dammit!" she went off again. Leaning back on his chair, Dylan spaced out, staring down on his fingers intertwined in his lap, an expression of utter resignation on his face. _Nope, no point at all in trying to answer the lady._ Whatever he had to say, she wasn't interested... It was only when Beka finally came to a halt right in front of him that he decided it would be best to restart paying attention to her.

"Really, of all the ship-crews out there, it had to be us to test the prototypes, the day before you were due to leave, right after a pride well-known for illegal traffic with... just about everything, especially weapons, joins the Commonwealth. We get ambushed on Terrazed – of all places – and everything points to the Prolon-system being involved. And you agree to go there! Does none of this smell like a set-up to you? By the Divine: what are you thinking, Dylan? If you may forgive me the overstatement!"

"I am thinking that it very probably is a set-up, that we need to get to the bottom of this, that we need to find out who is behind it all – and that we need to get those weapons back and away from one of the most primitive conglomeration of lunatics in the Known Worlds."

She bit her lips, considering.

"What if it's another trap of the Collectors for you?"

"What if it's not? Beka, we could rebuild, but we can't run the Commonwealth all by ourselves. We have to start trusting others, just as they have to start trusting us."

"Yes," she replied sarcastically, starting to pace around once more, "we tried that already and boy, didn't it work out just great?"

"So we have to keep trying," he insisted stubbornly.

She stopped right behind him, staring at his back. He tried to turn around to catch a glimpse of her, but he only managed to get his face to the side, when she closed up on him, throwing an arm around his neck and letting her chin gently rest on his head.

"There are things that you just won't ever let me teach you, hmm?" she murmured into his hair.

He smiled, one of his hands reaching up to gently stroke her forearm right under his chin.

"If it's any consolation to you: there are things that I feel you won't let me ever teach you either..." he told her, attempting to look up to her. She chuckled and released him, stepping around and letting herself drop into the seat next to him.

"What am I gonna do with you?" she asked with a half-smile.

His eyebrows went up. Seeing it, she laughed, slightly slapping his biceps.

"Down, boy! We don't want to upset... Lucy, right? Or Rox. Or Molly. Or, since we're all set for a visit to the Prolon-system, Miss... Loreena Blodget..."

"Oh God, her," he groaned. "All right, all right," he said, pretending to fence her off.

Still smiling, Beka got back to her feet and turned around to leave.

"Okay, I'll then go to my precious mother."

"Oh yes. Listen, Beka, she doesn't seem all that bad."

The blonde shook her head, throwing him a last, ironic glance:

"You mean: for a bitch? I don't know, it might well be you think so just 'cause you're a bit familiar with bitching Valentine-style and somewhat receptive to it, you know... Me, I know the pattern, I know how the charm works and..." She sighed lightly. "I don't know, Dylan. I guess, I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Dylan's eyes widened. _I thought it dropped already with the Prolon-system_, he mused consternated. Sighing, he watched Beka leave and stood up himself, ready to join Rommie for the next round of getting his head bitten off. Well, not really ready, but then again: he knew this to be about the last thing both Beka and Rommie actually cared about. _The wonderful life and times of a star ship captain..._ he thought, half-amused, half-resigned on his way out.


	7. Plans astounding

7. _Plans – astounding_

To Beka's surprise, Thalia was indeed patiently waiting for her outside the briefing room.

"Well, who would have thought? You are persistent!" the young woman exclaimed, ironic – and annoyed – fake admiration in her voice.

"Don't get too charming, Becky," the senator mildly warned her. They walked together, keeping their distance from each other.

"So, tell me, Beka:" her mother finally asked, "did you conclude your 'pressing ship business' with your captain?"

The blonde grinned, but didn't answer. The older woman threw her a long, curious glance.

"Or did the conversation rather have something to do with the new mission? You... did not seem too pleased with it, although last time you all went there, you seemed to have handled yourselves quite well, if I am to judge by the official reports."

Beka dug her teeth lightly into her full lower lip.

"Official reports," she stated in a cold voice," say something like 'The _Andromeda Ascendant_ and her crew spent 6 days crossing Prolon, during which time they solved several social and environmental problems as well as helped stabilise the system's budget in deficit'; they don't mention what it took to get there."

"Oh, but I assure you, they do, my dear. Our intel is really very thorough, we know all about the Royal House of Prolon down to its... most obscure members," Thalia contradicted with an amused smile," we are aware of some of its strangest religious cults and so forth and so on. So far the only thing we haven't been quite able to elucidate was the Prolon judiciary AI's remarkable change of heart at the very last moment."

"And so it occurred to you that you just might send Dylan again down there to satisfy your curiosity?" Beka demanded to know in an aggressive tone.

"No," her mother said pensively, "this really is all about the forcelances. But, if the situation might provide a valid explanation for this miracle, too – why, we'd be most grateful."

Her daughter frowned, scrutinising her from the side.

"I can provide the explanation for it, if you insist. The miracle you're wondering about goes by the name of Seamus Zelasny Harper. And just so your curiosity is fully satisfied: he hacked himself into the AI and changed the verdict. And no, there won't be any new situation that might provide the need to... trouble this miracle again, since this time neither Harper nor Dylan nor the _Andromeda Ascendant_ will come even close to that wretched system."

Thalia's eyebrows went up in surprise, almost reaching her hairline.

"They won't?" she asked bewildered.

"No, they won't. Rhade and me were the ones responsible for this, the two of us will take the _Maru_, go there and sort it out by ourselves."

"Without any back-up?"

"We lost those damned weapons without any back-up, we will get them back without one, as well."

The senator shook her head in puzzlement.

"This is what your captain and you came up with in there? I fear then, my dear child, that I must truly tell you..."

She didn't get to finish. Before she even knew it, she felt herself almost lifted off her feet and slammed painfully hard against the next bulkhead. More startled than hurt, she stared into her daughter's menacingly close face while she faintly struggled against a solid arm thrown across her throat.

"I've not been a child for a very long time now. And I ceased to be anything that you might have a right to consider 'yours' for even longer,... Mother. Dylan doesn't know anything about this, and he won't know about it until we're safely away, do you understand me?"

With a cautious look in her eyes, Thalia nodded. Her tongue came out and briefly moistened her lips.

"Why..." she hesitantly ventured then, "why in this case do you bother telling me your plan in the first place, Beka?"

The ironic gleam in her daughter's eyes deepened, while a wide, even more sardonic grin appeared on her face.

"What, do you think I want to risk insubordination charges? Me, a Valentine? Just as you volunteered us for this mission, Ma'am, I just got myself the Commonwealth's approval for my course of action. Right?" she finished sweetly, while her arm began to increase the pressure.

Understanding dawned on the senator's face – and despite her predicament a grin that looked just like a twin of the one on Beka's face, began to blossom on her lips.

"Very well played, my dear," she acknowledged admiringly. The instant she had signalled her approval, she felt the arm release her and saw her daughter step back. Brushing at her clothes in a distracted manner, Thalia straightened herself up and resumed her walk.

"It is a risk though, Beka," she finally told her, breaking the silence only in front of her quarters. The younger woman shrugged.

"Most things in life are," she dismissed the objection. "It's..." She hesitated, then laughed up briefly. "It's never easy, you know. But some things just are easier than others. The _Andromeda_ is in dry-dock because we've been in more fights than even she can take, she desperately needs Harper to supervise the work on her, the crew is badly in need of the break and I'm not letting Dylan set one foot into a system where already they did their best to kill him repeatedly unless I know for sure that there is absolutely no other way. Rhade and I go alone: my first and foremost duty is to protect this ship and its captain."

"But what if things go badly and you're there without back-up?"

The broad grin got broader.

"Well then there is always Valentinology."


	8. Moods nasty

_8. Moods – nasty_

"Remind me again why you think it such a terrific idea for me to accompany you alone to this backwater system inhabited by nothing but lunatics? I mean, could you give me at least one good reason for this?"

Captain Rebekkah Valentine raised an ironic eyebrow, her lips showing a lopsided grin while she kept focusing on her panels, piloting the ship with her usual elegant efficiency without bothering to so much as throw a look at Lieutenant Commander Telemachus Rhade, who stood sulking next to the _Eureka Maru_'s navigation station.

"I can give you several:" she answered calmly. "Because last time we went _Andromeda_ got badly affected. Because Dylan got himself into major trouble while there. Because it was just you and me losing the lances, so it would be only fair if it's just the two of us geniuses retrieving them again. Because you're only _Andromeda_'s third-in-command and I am your superior officer. And this being the case: because **I **say so. Any more questions?" the blonde wanted to know, finally looking over her shoulder at the dark Nietzschean, who was staring at her in outrage, seemingly speechless. "No?" she asked sarcastically upon noticing his aghast expression. "Great! I'm glad we could clear that much. Now stop arguing with me and check all systems once more, will you?"

The High Guard officer swallowed a couple of times, then dropped his gaze to his panels and complied. Ten minutes later, he cleared his throat.

"All systems clear, **Captain** Valentine!"

Beka smiled satisfied and lightly patted the console next to her.

"Atta girl!" she murmured glowing with happiness about her ship being in perfect shape. "Remind me, Rhade, to get Harper a present from Prolon. He really knocked himself out this time with the repairs on the _Maru_..."

"Isn't that his job?" her travel companion mumbled ungraciously. "Besides: just what present suitable for any sentient being in his right mind do you think you can find in a place like Prolon?"

The young woman shrugged.

"First of all: we're talking Harper here, right? And then... Look, I know first hand about Nietzschean opinions on all kludge systems in general and Prolon in particular. And while I admit that this one is indeed as odd as they get, I still found last time we ended up there that it had some potential."

"If you plan on going all Captain 'Everybody needs a chance, and the Commonwealth is there to make sure they get it'-Dylan Hunt on me: don't!"

"I thought you were one of those enlightened Nietzscheans subscribing to this?"

"Yes, but you're not," Rhade replied sharply. "Besides: enlightened Nietzscheans think that only those should get a chance who deserve it."

"Oh? And who discerns the 'deserving' ones from the others?" Beka said, laughing up at his nonplussed looks. "Cheer up, Rhade! I'm sure that once its ties with the Commonwealth grow stronger, even Prolon will prosper. It just needs to shape up a bit more and start introducing its population to the one or other achievement of modern civilisation..."

"Yeah, like food, for instance," the Nietzschean bitched on.

"Like food, for instance," Beka mouthed silently with a grimace, strapping herself out of the pilot seat while aping Rhade's expression. "Right," she then concluded aloud, turning around to face him, "we'll be on the outskirts of Prolon in about four hours. I'm off to my quarters for a short nap. We're on autopilot. Keep an eye on things here and..." she gestured vaguely towards the pilot seat, "don't touch anything!"

She strode past him with a beaming smile and disappeared towards her cabin. For a brief instant Rhade stared after her, then jumped across the rail and right into the seat she had just vacated. He leaned back annoyed, watching his own image mirrored in the windows of the _Eureka Maru._

"Keep and eye on things and," he quietly mimicked Beka, unaware that he was imitating her own previous behaviour, "don't touch anything!" Once done with the mocking his shoulders slightly sagged forward. "This," he sighed irritated, "is going to be one long, long, loooong trip!"

/

Her door chimed persistently. Rolling her eyes and with a distinctly not amused pout around her mouth Thalia van Oudekerk emerged from her bedroom, wrapping a silken night-robe around her slender figure.

"Come in!" she ordered curtly.

The doors slid aside to reveal the tall, imposing frame of _Andromeda_'s captain.

"Dylan!" Thalia exclaimed. "I may call you Dylan, right?" she then inquired.

He rushed into her suite without bothering to answer, his face a rigid mask of coldness.

"Where is she? What do you know about her plans? Why did she leave with only Rhade?" he demanded to know, neglecting all polite introductory phrases and without even trying to excuse himself for disturbing his guest and – at least for the time being and technically speaking – his superior at such late an hour.

The older woman sighed.

"You mean Beka?"

"Yeah," he snorted derisively. "I mean Beka, go figure!"

"Seems like I was right, then: force-lances, guns and now it looks like you've misplaced even your second-in-command. Well, I really don't know..."

"This truly isn't the time to play smart with me," Dylan interrupted her, something like a low growl deep in his throat accompanying his words. "Did she leave for Prolon on her own? Did you make her do that? And if so, why?"

Thalia shook her head.

"It was her own idea. Something about difficulties you ran into last time you went there. She felt that there might be a better chance to do this with the _Maru_ only and with as little personnel as possible... Less conspicuous, also less dangerous for everyone involved..."

"Less dangerous for **everyone**?" The man seemed to nearly choke on the words. "What about Rhade and Beka herself?"

"Look, Captain: I know..."

"No, you don't," he cut her short. "There are more reasons other than just pollution for Prolon to be declared off-limits, Senator: the system is the universe's largest lunatic asylum. Beka's right, the Andromeda is vulnerable there, but going there without back-up is..." His voice trailed off, his teeth digging into his lower lip while his eyes got an inward expression. Before she could react to it though, he seemed to shake off the musings.

""The _Nephtis_," he stated, "is it ready for take-off?"

"Always," Thalia confirmed, "but, Captain..."

"Very well then," Dylan continued, disregarding her input, "I am confiscating it for the time being."

"What? That's my ship! You can't do that!" the senator exclaimed indignantly.

"You just watch me, lady!"

"Based on which authorisation?"

"Military emergency!"

"No, I forbid it! And if you disobey, I'll..."

"You what? Call your bad boys to stop me? Not unless you want to see my med-deck personnel mighty busy with the task of turning two steaks tartare back into Nietzschean alphas."

"Oh, I doubt that. They are big, strong, fast and they're very good at Ven-Dagh," Thalia threatened, referring to a dreaded Dragan combat-technique.

"And I'm very good at running berserk," Dylan said unimpressed.

They measured each other for a few seconds.

"If you try to go through with this," the woman finally stated, "I **will** have you court-martialled. In fact, I very much doubt that you will be able to so much as make it out of the system before I call in Terrazed security to arrest you."

"Now that is something **I** doubt," the High Guard retorted. "I engaged privacy mode before I came to see you. You can scream and hope that your guards next door might hear you. But other than that you can't communicate with anyone, Senator!" he calmly informed her. "And don't hope to be able to do it after I leave: you are coming with me!"

A thin smile appeared on Thalia's lips, accompanied by an appreciative gleam in her eyes.

"Very well played, Captain," she complimented him. "I'm beginning to think that my daughter's and your style are pretty much attuned to one another. Wait here. I'll just change into a more suitable outfit. "

With a regal nod of her head, she left him standing in the middle of the room. Dylan sighed, rubbing a tired hand across his face.

'_Attuned to one another'... Oh yeah, Beka and I have something really good going on here_, he thought to himself, slightly exasperated. _She disobeys my orders, I ignore her advice, she bullies me, I patronise her... We're a match made in Heaven: me off-beat, clueless and late, she impulsive and bossy. A frikking family drama! Now complete with the devious, aristocratic mother. My God, it's a nightmare. Next time someone wants to rescue me from a black hole, I just hope they reconsider in time. It's too damn' exhausting!_


	9. Insights complicated

_Insights – Complicated_

Seated all alone in a sumptuous waiting room in what looked like a palace of Lerna, capital city of Zara, the Prolon system's main planet, Telemachus Rhade sighed. He must have been there for hours, all alone with no company but the silent guards at the doors – and nothing to do but muse about his situation.

/

Lt. Commander Telemachus Rhade was a soldier, had been one all his life and had never wanted to be anything else. On his safe, backward, remote Terrazed-home world in the times before Captain Dylan Hunt, before the New Restored Systems' Commonwealth, before the Worldship had announced its impending coming he had started out at the still pompously called Imperial War College before going on to the High Guard Academy, graduating top of his class from both, to then join the forces, that no longer were a High, but merely a Home Guard, this being the only concession of Terrazed's institutions to the events going on out there, in the real universe far, far away from them.

The fact that even before the _Andromeda Ascendant_ had been freed from its black hole prison that universe had time and again seemed to move closer and closer to Terrazed, challenging its soldiers to defend the last harbour of the Old Commonwealth, had both demanded sacrifices from Telemachus Rhade as well as provided him with opportunities. All in all, the opportunities prevailed: he had ended up Admiral and supreme commander of Terrazed's military, his planet's most heroic defender – and most ardent supporter of its independence. To ensure it Rhade had then even accepted the role of a politician.

And he'd been successful – only to find out that Captain Hunt had been right, that as far away as Terrazed was, it just wasn't far away enough and unable to stand alone in the fight that lay before them all. So the Admiral quickly reconsidered their options and then led his home planet in the shortest of time into the New Commonwealth, where – due to its traditions – it immediately became the union's seat of power. Once done, Telemachus Rhade had breathed out relieved, resigned his political power and went back to the one thing he was really good at: soldiering.

Of course, the High Guard of the Restored New Systems' Commonwealth could not offer him the same position he had occupied with the old Home Guard of Terrazed; with already that many signatory worlds there were only so many admirals and captains it could come up with without ending up with the problem of having too many chiefs and not enough Indians. Telemachus Rhade understood and was perfectly happy to become a Lt. Commander, confident that he would make his way in the new hierarchy with just as much efficiency as he had managed to deploy in the old one. And when, after many interesting, but not altogether pleasant events he finally ended up in the recognized, accepted position of third-in-command of the restored, re-integrated flag-ship of the Commonwealth, he knew he had been right.

Except: not everything in his dream-come-true was just as he'd imagined. Like most things in life, his position onboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_ came with a catch. In fact, it even came with several.

Amazingly enough, the first one was the… _Andromeda Ascendant_ herself. She was a beautiful ship, the ideal warship every soldier, every officer would dream of. In addition to that – and contrary to all ships Rhade had known back on Terrazed – she had an avatar who wasn't, but who _looked_ like one of the most intriguing, most breath-taking beauties he had ever met. No, she wasn't a woman, regardless of her looks she was in every respect a big, bad, kick-ass warship. But. In addition to her superior skills, her android detachment, her strength, intelligence and her professionalism, _Andromeda_ – Rommie, as everybody called her – displayed a most unusual amount of loyalty, of warmth, concern and… well, love for the humans aboard her. Which brought Rhade directly to the second catch.

_Andromeda_ was kept intact by the most peculiar, most irritating presence the former admiral had ever come cross. Her chief engineer – and in terms of rank outrageously enough Rhade's equal – was a young and (as the Nietzschean presumed) probably mad genius, who was not alone in love with his job, but furthermore appeared in lust with his creation. It made the ties that bound Seamus Zelasny Harper to his Romdoll seem somehow slightly indecent, to put it mildly. And it made the love _Andromeda_ felt for him at least problematic, especially since it came counterbalanced by the Terran's equally consuming passion for… his 'golden goddess'.

The third catch. Their medical officer, Miss Trance Gemini. Who, for all Rhade knew, could indeed be a goddess. Or not. Or something else. He had no idea. If asked to describe her, he only could have said that she was a… riddle. A mysterious being, indeed golden, very, very, **very** golden. With an elaborate hairdo, an amazing costume that had nothing to do with any uniform he had ever seen (of course not! after all she was a senior officer of _the Andromeda Ascendant_, where engineers showed up on the bridge wearing shirts with palm-trees on them – and captains jogged down the corridors in sweat pants and t-shirts, in full sight of the crew); she furthermore displayed amazing knowledge, alternating with – whenever it suited her purposes – amazing cluelessness, followed by demonstrations of surprising powers, skills and an extraordinary… life-force, for lack of a better word. Complete with cactus. Or bamboo. No! Bonsai – yes, that was the one; botany had somehow never managed to become one of Rhade's fortes. And his proximity to this particular plant did nothing to change that. But then again no-one else seemed to really understand what was up with the scrub. Except maybe Dylan Hunt. Their captain. Or, as Rhade sometimes admitted (only to himself and very, very rarely, of course): the fourth catch.

Oh yes, Dylan Hunt. Founding father of the New Commonwealth and a living legend. A brilliant, perfectly trained and educated mind, a tough guy, an upright character. Mature, yet somehow ageless. Tall, strong, brave and strikingly handsome. As humans went and from a strictly Nietzschean point of view: genetic excellence on two legs. Which he seemed willing to distribute around in a quite generous manner. But didn't really, for he was – in addition to all that – a romantic. And: militarily disciplined, responsible, committed to values and ideals. The perfect commanding offi… Err, no, not that. Captain Dylan Hunt's commanding style in general and his relationship to his senior crew in particular could have been called unorthodox. At best. In fact, left to his own devices Telemachus Rhade felt often enough compelled to call it differently. Like… lax, for instance. Careless, sloppy, devoid of all resemblance of military discipline. Indulgent, understanding to a point close to anarchy. Rebellious when it came to Hunt's own submission to orders from higher up. And blindly, inexplicably, almost symbiotically attached to his first officer. The biggest catch of them all.

A charming catch – at first sight: tall, slender, strong, blonde and fascinating. A fighter. A survivor. Best pilot in the Known Worlds. So far, simple enough. At second glance, though…

Beka Valentine, _Andromeda_'s second-in-command, Rhade's superior and – infuriatingly enough –unlike him not a lieutenant commander, not even a commander, but a full-blown, damned captain in her own right, onboard the flag-ship in a strange position vaguely inferior to Hunt's, onboard _the Eureka Maru_ even outranking him (by virtue of whatever mysterious non-Commonwealth, non-Perseid, non-Than – nor any other hierarchic order Rhade had ever heard of – arrangement existed between the two of them, one that was often ignored, but just as often applied, exactly as the two of them deemed fit), was by far the most irritating enigma of them all. Upsettingly smart, devious, a mastermind both with tactics as well as strategies, seemingly not troubled by a great deal of scruples. Well-bred, well-educated, of polished, effortless politeness – if she so wanted, yet more often than not unbearably bossy, arrogant and rude. At ease with both VIPs and just about every scumbag in the Three Galaxies. Beyond her own word (that – with the possible exception of Hunt's decisions – was however the law wherever she was) lacking all regard for any kind of discipline. Not too fond either of too much earnestness in her life, with a penchant for fun, promiscuity even. Insubordinate and apparently endowed with a loyalty of a somewhat volatile nature. For which there seemed to be many, many reasons, good ones, too – at least according to Dylan Hunt, who had personally informed Telemachus Rhade within his very first moments on his crew that, when it came to their XO, they tended to do things 'differently' onboard the _Andromeda_ (and, as far as Rhade could tell by now, the man hadn't uttered something more true in his life): like Nietzschean renegades formerly known as crew-mates. Or flash. Or the Abyss. Or a highly interesting family-history. Or whatever. Rhade had by now no doubts that Captain Hunt's supply of excuses for his first officer's… peculiarities was indeed limitless.

/

"Sleepy, Rhade?" The cool, slightly ironic voice interrupted his train of thought and brought him up to attention. Angrily, he pressed his lips upon hearing the soft, pearly chuckle.

"At ease, Commander." Standing in front of him with the customary, lightly mocking smile on her lips, Beka Valentine motioned him to come nearer. "Your Highness, may I introduce our third-in-command, Lieutenant Commander Telemachus Rhade, to you?" she then said, pushing him a bit towards a beautiful woman of indeed royal bearing.

"Rhade – Her Royal Highness, Princess Tura of the House of Prolon."

Taking in the sight enraptured if – in view of his information gathered from the files on _Andromeda_'s previous visit to the system – also slightly bewildered, Rhade could not suppress a gleam of admiration in his eyes. Next thing he knew the right side of his face exploded in pain.

"Insolent," the dark beauty hissed in a displeased tone belied by the smile on her face, then turned around and disappeared again through the doors she had just emerged from. "Follow me!" she ordered both officers curtly.

Throwing Beka a dark – and puzzled – look, Rhade set himself in motion, while nurturing his cheek.

"Can you now tell me what are we doing here?" he whispered, more than just slightly annoyed.

"Gathering information… And getting ourselves an ally," the blonde grinned at him broadly. "For which purpose you seem to be really instrumental, if I'm to go by that slap."

"I'm sorry?"

"That's how she also treated Dylan the first time she saw him… Must mean some sort of 'Hello, gorgeous!' in Prolon. I'd say she really likes you!"


	10. Acquaintances old

Natta and I did a fic-swap, so this is her chapter.

_Acquaintances - old_

Princess Tura led them into what appeared to be a large hall but was furnished rather more like an office and gestured for them to sit down. There were chairs that seemed to be randomly strewn out but at a closer glance had some form of symmetry, which Beka and Rhade gingerly sat down on, neither of them taking their eyes off Tura.

"I see you've made quite a life for yourself here," Beka commented dryly, letting her eyes wander the room to end up back on Tura, who appeared unfazed. In a way Beka supposed she could admire her determination and ingenuity, even if the outcome of her crime may have been a bit too much.

"I have," she replied curtly, "however I believe this is not what you came here to talk about." Beka cast a quick glance at Rhade, who had made himself comfortable and shrugged at her, making it clear this was nothing to do with him.

"No, we didn't. _Princess_, you owe both me and Dylan one," she replied, "I think it's time we call in that debt." Tura licked her lips and leaned forward a little, giving Beka a searching glance.

"Do I now?"

"Yes," Beka replied, not taking her eyes off her. "Now, these weapons…the Commonwealth does not take kindly to them having landed up the wrong hands…" Rhade coughed and glared at her.

"You mean your _mother_ doesn't…" He was quickly subdued by a murderous glance from his superior officer, but the Princess had already heard and a small smile was playing on her lips.

"Family troubles, hm? Perhaps I shouldn't disturb." Beka turned her attention back to the woman and shook her head.

"Look, this has nothing to do with who wants what, Tura. The force lances need to get back to us, and we will do whatever we can to get them. Is that clear?" Suddenly, the Princess burst out laughing.

"Is that supposed to be a threat, Miss Valentine? In case you haven't noticed, you have all of…oh, one so-called ship with you, and no more than two people. I suggest if you want something from me, you start acting just a little more courteous." The last part was said in a very warning tone and for once, Beka paid heed.

/

The journey in the _Nephtis _was silent and terribly tiresome, Dylan thought. The senator was sat cross-armed next to him, staring stubbornly out of the view screen as he piloted the ship, both annoyed with Beka and very nervous something may have happened to her. Well, **and **Rhade too. Maybe.

"I just don't see why you can't let Becky sort out her own mess," Thalia finally mumbled under her breath, although quite obviously meant for Dylan to hear.

"Well, it's not _her_ mess," he replied more than a little irritated. "The way I see it, it's all of ours, and the only reason she went is because of you. So perhaps you should drop the steely act and try to show a little motherly concern." He snorted immediately. "Oh, I forget…you're not very good at that, are you?"

She rolled her eyes.

"My duty is foremost to the Commonwealth," she replied almost mechanically. "Those force lances must come back to where they belong." Only further agitated, Dylan stared at her.

"At the cost of Beka's life?"

"If you recall, I did not order Becky to leave on her own. I assume she has some sort of plan that does not involve dying."

Dylan laughed sarcastically.

"Oh, I am sure she does!" he exclaimed. "Does that make me worry any less? Oh no…I know how plans usually work out." Giving her an icy stare, he added: "They don't."

"Ah, you men and your obsession with saving damsels in distress," the senator sighed and looked over at Dylan in an almost endeared fashion. "Don't worry, I'm sure she finds you…handsome." She reached out and stroked a strand of hair from his face and added with a smile: "It runs in the blood you know."

He pulled away and stared at her incredulously.

"You are a very strange woman," he said, then added quietly to himself: _Which, come to think of it, kind of figures._

/

"Right," Beka hurried to say. "I certainly didn't mean it as a threat, I just came to ask if you might be able to help us find out whoever has the forcelances. I mean, these people are supposed to adore you, right? So…surely it couldn't be that hard to locate a couple of stray…weapons?"

"Not at all," the Princess said with a smile on her face that Beka did not like much. "In fact, I have a feeling we'll find them pretty soon." Her smile breaking into a large grin, she looked to the left, then to the right, where doors were opening, guards entering the room. In their hands, quite surprisingly - although perhaps not - were the forcelances, quite ironically now pointed to Beka and Rhade.

"What is this all about?" she asked, casting an icy glance at Tura, who was still smiling.

"Oh, don't worry," the Princess said lightly, "I'm sure the good Captain Hunt will come and rescue you soon…with a pretty ransom. Perhaps more of these weapons." She nodded to the guards, who came closer and waved to the Andromeda officers to get up. "Lock them up somewhere in the Western prison. Underground." Beka rolled her eyes as she got up, following the way the guard was pointing her.

Would Dylan come? Oh, most definitely, and he would probably give the Princess whatever she liked 

– although he'd try other ways first. She couldn't stand the thought that she had already managed to mess up so that Tura had the lances in the first place, and now she was to be the cause of more of them getting into the wrong hands. This certainly just got more complicated as time went by.

/

They were taken all across town, fortunately not walked the streets for the masses to see, but driven in a small ship not far over the ground. The Western prison turned out to be a pretty pleasant-looking building from the outside, but less so once they came in. In fact, it sort of reminded Beka of prisons of the old movies she would sometimes see in her holovids. They were thrown in a cell behind actual steel bars and locked in without a word on what else was to happen to them.

Finally Rhade spoke for the first time since they had started the journey:

"Great."


	11. Developments unexpected

_Developments – unexpected_

"Just what are you doing?"

Rebekkah Valentine sighed. She'd never been a big fan of cells, dungeons and steel bars. Nor had she ever held much appreciation for anything involving well-set plans going wrong. Especially when said plans just so happened to be her own. However, being stuck behind steel bars in a cell located in a dungeon after one of her plans going wrong together with a bitching Rhade had got to be the queen mother of all the things she hated.

Not deigning the Nietzschean with any kind of answer, she continued to feel the door and its surroundings with her flat hands, something she had kept at for the past hour and a half, to absolutely no avail.

"I said: what are your doing?" Rhade repeated his question in an angry tone.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Beka retorted sharply. "How big are the chances I'm searching for gold thrones, hm?"

"So then what are you searching for? Do you really think that there is some hidden, secret device that might help you open the door? Really, Beka…"

He interrupted himself when a soft click was heard and the door just switched open without so much as a sound more, as if pushed by magic.

"I love it when things go according to plan," his XO muttered to herself, although she knew that this was not entirely true: it had taken her considerably longer than expected to find the switch, despite all Loreena Blodgett's reassurances that the mechanism was child's play. Shaking her head in slight irritation, Beka decided to overlook the unnerving delay and moved forward to step through the door, but the Nietzschean raised an arm, trying to block her path.

"Beka, wait!"

"What?"

"This could well be a trap. There certainly are cameras and micros placed around here. They will know that we are trying to escape…"

"Oh, cut it out, Rhade! This is a Prolon prison. There must have been more elaborate cells on Earth back in the times of the pharaohs."

"I can't believe they're really that dumb!"

"They're not; but they are that bankrupt. And also THAT corrupt…" Beka ended the matter, stepping through the door and turning to the right, after giving her eyes two seconds time to adjust to the even more obscure light outside the already dark cell.

Resigning, but not pacified, Telemachus Rhade followed her in silence, quickly catching up with her.

"Beka, wait!" he tried again to stall her.

"What now?" the young woman hissed back over her shoulder.

"What about the guards?"

"There are no guards. Loreena said she'd take care of them…"

"Who?" the lieutenant commander asked in a puzzled tone.

"Princess Tura…" Beka replied, slightly annoyed about his apparent thick-wittedness.

The answer seemed to leave Rhade even more at a loss, as he stood there watching the back of _Andromeda_'s first officer, slightly lost in his musings, only to at last kick back into action and run around the corner behind which Beka Valentine had just disappeared.

"Beka!" he called softly, careful to avoid too much noise. "Dammit, Beka! Wait! I… don't think I get it…" he argued with the back of her head, frowning when she didn't even stop her stride, just mumbling something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "Figures!" _Oh_, Rhade thought briefly, _I am so sick and tired of having them all treat me like I was some bone-head just because I wasn't around when they pulled this or that crazy stunt they barely escaped from._

"Beka!" He grabbed for her shoulder. She swirled around in a flash.

"Look, Rhade, I'm sorry. I know you don't get it, but we have already lost precious time. You see, once we're back on the _Andromeda_, I will gladly answer all your remaining questions regarding the Prolon system, but right now we must hurry, because we still do have a lot of ground to cover before we're out of here – and Tura is not likely to wait all night for us."

"She's waiting for us? So she's helping us out of here?"

Beka drew in a sharp breath. _Great_, she thought, _he's catching up – and all of it just under 10 minutes. I knew there must be some reason for Dylan to keep him around other than his pathetic attempts to prove that he's __**not**__ prejudiced against Nietzscheans_!

"But why then did she get us arrested in the first place?" the High Guard asked further, his frown becoming even more accentuated upon seeing the _Maru_'s captain furrow her brow at that, while her eyes locked to his in a somewhat defiant, angry manner. "Oh, I get it!" Rhade suddenly chuckled, "you screwed up and somehow misjudged the situation; you came directly to her to call in whatever favor she might owe you, not fully realizing that she's under surveillance, as well… Ha! I've got to mark this day in golden letters! Captain Valentine, the lady who always thinks around at least 10 corners, has for once not thought ahead far enough!"

_Go figure_! Beka mused, displeased but also impressed. _And now it turns out he's even a prodigy! At the wrong time and place **and **on the wrong issue, but a prodigy…_

"I'm glad you're having fun!" was all she said aloud though. "Now, if you'd care to follow me to our rendezvous point with Princess Tura…"

Rhade couldn't suppress a delighted grin seeing her discomfort.

"By all means, lead the way!" he said, with an only marginally ironic bow.

/

It turned out that their path had indeed been cleared. They did not encounter any guards or soldiers, no police force, absolutely nothing on their long, winded way through the dark corridors to a tiny, battered metal-door, that was just a bit open, enough to let them pass, but still shut enough to not look that way. Outside, the night was pitch dark, cold and wet.

_Figures_, Beka thought, her already nasty mood getting even worse. Following the instructions Loreena Blodgett had furtively passed on to her during their brief meeting before Rhade had joined them, Beka led them through narrow, obscure streets full of garbage and mud for about four blocks further.

_How fitting for Prolon_, Rhade considered silently, _to have the prison being the best looking, cleanest spot in the whole neighbourhood._ At least he was grateful that the dirty alleys were also quite remarkably deserted. Not that he could have thought of a reason why anyone in his right mind would have wanted to go for a walk in a place that was – of that the lieutenant commander was quite sure – as much squirming with all sorts of germs as possible. He held himself very close behind his XO, carefully avoiding any kind of contact with anything around them, all of his Nietzschean instincts screaming to stay clear from the filthy surroundings. Noticing it, a smug grin spread on Beka's face.

"Are we there yet?"

Hearing the question for what must have been at least the fourth time, the young woman turned her head towards him, slightly rolling her eyes, when she seemed to catch something like a movement from somewhere across them, on Rhade's right side. Without a word, Beka pushed the startled man aside with a mighty shove that took him by surprise, throwing him off balance. Yet his fighting skills as well as instincts made him smoothly roll around and out of the way, just in time to see Beka swirl around herself and duck behind a pile of garbage of some sort. At the place where the movement had caught her eye, there was a groan; then they could see something heavy and even darker than the night slid down and slum on the pavement.

Gaining his footing again, Rhade cautiously approached the slumped figure, his eyes darting about, making sure that there were no more figures around them. He was no more than three steps away from the prone heap, when his nostrils caught a pleasant scent utterly unfitting the environment. He jumped back, bone-blades erect.

"Easy!" a haughty, somewhat ironic voice admonished him. From the shadows the slender, gracious figure of Princess Tura emerged. She quickly approached the figure on the pavement, delicately prodding it with an elegantly booted foot. "Neat," she said with an approving look towards Beka, who now came closer too, hunkering above the heap. She reached down and retrieved something out of the dark mass: a knife, that she carefully cleaned in the folds in front of her.

"You... You had a knife on you all this time?" Rhade asked incredulously. "And you just threw it at this guy, without even knowing who he was?"

"Who he was?" Beka asked back, sounding just as incredulous. "Who do you think he was?"

"Well, for all we know he might just have been an innocent passer-by," the High Guard protested firmly.

"I somehow doubt that," his commanding officer disagreed, giving the corpse a firm kick. The body rolled aside, one arm falling limply to the left, revealing a hand still clutched around a silvery blade.

"Oh, he had a knife, too..." the Nietzschean remarked, sounding not quite his usual, cool self. Again, Beka rolled her eyes.

"Dear God, yes! He had a knife. I have a knife. And I presume she has a knife, as well," she snarled, her head jerking towards the other woman. "Wake up, Rhade! This isn't Terrazed, Tarn-Vedra or some nice, quiet Old Commonwealth-spot. This is the Prolon-system, 307 years after the Fall and we are all savages!" She bent down, picking up the blade from their attacker's lifeless fingers and throwing it in a smooth move to the man, who caught it with utmost ease. "Everybody has a knife," she concluded in a final tone.

"He's cute," Princess Tura cut in on them, her voice no less ironic. "In a... somehow very... 'Dylan'-sort of way..." she added, sounding a bit pensive.

"It's the Academy-boy charm," Beka answered with a wry smile lingering somewhere between amused embarrassment and a slight disgust. "They... breed them like that."

"Really? What do you know?! And now you even have a pair of them..." Tura added just as if they were talking horses.

"Yeah," _Andromeda_'s XO sighed. "Lucky, lucky me! Now there's two of them to keep alive! Anyway, we're digressing..." she then added more sharply, deliberately ignoring Rhade's fuming discomfort.

"Yes, we are," the 'princess' conceded, "but in such a pleasant way..."

"That's enough, Loreena," Beka snapped. "Get to it! I want to hear all there is to know about the stolen force-lances: who took them, where-to and why?"


	12. Explanations intricate

OotP 12

_Explanations – __intricate_

They had been led by Miss Loreena Blodget aka Princess Tura through countless streets and alleys, all dark, smelly and filthy, until they finally reached a dark, secluded building, that seemed to be however – as Rhade registered with utmost relief – right next to the _Eureka Maru_'s landing place. There, they entered once more unmolested by guards, soldiers or even any passers-by, ending up in a small, semi-obscure room lit only by candles, that gave the space a somewhat sacral character, prompting the Nietzschean to utter his question in a whispered voice.

"Where the hell are we here?"

"City of Lerna, Prolon? Rhade, you need to work on your memory..." Beka answered him loudly, her tone again ironic. Which was no surprise: Rhade could have counted the times when his XO had addressed him other than sarcastically without running out of fingers. On one hand. He suppressed an urge to roll his eyes.

"I know THAT," he replied, needlessly, sounding more than just a little annoyed. "But what is this place here?"

"A temple," Loreena cut in. "If I am to tell you what you want to know, we need a safe place, where we can talk without people either eavesdropping or trying to assassinate you..."

To Rhade a temple, with priests and people walking in and out for worship as well as countless corners to hide from sight and spots to plant all sorts of bugging devices, didn't sound all that safe, although he had to admit that they had not encountered a single soul so far. He still felt trapped, though.

"Why don't we just go to the _Maru_?" he sulkily inquired.

"Because it is under observation," the Prolon woman explained patiently. "Once we're finished I will have my monks set up a distraction, so you can sneak onboard and take off..."

Beka chuckled. Rhade felt his jaw go slack.

"Your... your **monks**?" he echoed their host.

"Oh yes," his commanding officer took mercy on his puzzlement, "I forgot to tell you: among many other things, Prolon also indulges in the cult of Hadjinaa – a... goddess. And somehow Loreena here has convinced Prolon's religious order that she is that goddess, just as she convinced the aristocrats that she is the lost Princess Tura. I thought though," she continued then, addressing the woman, "that, at least as far as _Hadjinaa_ was concerned, Tyr and Dylan took care of this... misunderstanding..."

Loreena smiled pleasantly.

"Let's just say they tried." She laughed up softly upon seeing surprise in Beka's eyes. "It wasn't easy to... undo the damage they've done – and it's a long story."

"Yes, I bet it is," the _Maru_'s captain nodded. "Right now though we have more pressing business to talk about. That other long story will have to wait. So: the force-lances..."

"Okay, here is what happened: shortly after you left over a year ago, the king got killed and we've been on the verge of civil war ever since," Loreena explained in a slightly reproachful tone. "The treaty that you tried to impose on us, didn't really work out."

"Well, you've been fighting each other for centuries," Beka retorted, "and only very reluctantly agreed to respect the peace Dylan imposed on you. So, even if the situation got worse afterwards – being on the verge of civil war is still better than being **at** war. I'd call that an improvement. Get to the lances, Loreena."

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there," the woman snapped back at her. "And I prefer Tura."

"Fine," Beka agreed.

"Dylan seriously tried to pacify Prolon?" Rhade used the pause to throw in an incredulous question. "And he really believed it would work?"

_Andromeda_'s XO sighed.

"Yes, he really did," Loreena answered him though. "Funny, isn't it?"

"Yes, truly hilarious," the other woman snorted, "especially when considering that he nearly lost both his life and his credibility in the process..."

"How, in Drago's name, could he do such a naive thing?" the Nietzschean queried, sounding even more puzzled.

"The way he always does it: with utmost ease," his commanding officer answered him dryly.

"Why?"

"Because he's Dylan. Rhade, look," Beka exclaimed, her tone gaining a clear note of exasperation, "could we postpone the discussion on Dylan's psychological profile to an ulterior date and just focus now on the lances?"

"Aye."

"Great. Tura?"

"Umm, yes," the 'princess', who had observed the exchange with an amused gleam in her eyes, began anew, "where was I? Oh, right: the civil war... They brought in a new king..."

"Hang in a second: _they_?" Rhade wanted to know.

"Yes, the shlekta..."

"The what?"

"This is their... well, sort of senate," Beka explained.

"You have a senate?"

"Of course we have a senate! What do you take us for?" Tura asked him upset.

Rhade refrained from answering, since he only could have informed her that he probably was 'taking' them for exactly what they were in his eyes: barbarians.

"This new king, who is it?" Beka decided to intervene before things got any uglier.

"He was brought from outside Prolon, an aristocrat, half-human, half-Nietzschean from a Than-colony: count Tiglatpilassar."

"Oh, great!" the _Maru_'s captain, just moments before striving for a diplomatic attitude, couldn't help muttering. "The unspellables putting the unpronounceable in charge of the untouchables."

"Hey, watch your tongue!" Loreena admonished her severely, to which Beka threw her hands up apologetically. "He just so happens to be quite good at what he does. Unfortunately, he isn't the youngest..."

"Why don't you marry him, that way maybe you get to succeed him once he passes on?" Rhade inserted. Silence fell. Surprised, Beka's eyes widened.

"That's it? Rhade nailed it? You want to marry this... Tiglapol... I mean, Tigel... anyway: you plan on marrying King Tig, become his queen, his widow and successor?"

"Well, yes..."

"And the lances?"

"Right, the lances. They're... they're awesome weapons, you see..."

"We're well aware of that, Tura."

"What you, however, aren't aware of is the fact that Tiglatpilassar is married."

"Well, you said he's old and half-Nietzschean. He's bound to have some ties."

"He not only has ties, but also three adult sons, who are all competing to succeed him. Each of them with the support of a different faction..."

"Which factions are there?" Beka wanted to know.

"Well, Tiglat's own, his queen's – because you see, they both want to see one of their sons on the throne, but they hate each other, so they each support another one of them – and the _shlekta_. They want the youngest one, but he's practically still a child."

"Figures, they want the one they think they can manipulate best. And the queen?"

"She favours the oldest one of them. But Tiglat fears him, thinks he's too much of a warrior..."

_And also __that he might not be willing to wait until the succession occurs naturally_, Beka thought. "That's lovely of him!" was though all she said aloud, before she got back to her initial worry. "Can you **now** tell us what happened with those lances? How in hell could anyone in the Prolon-system even know of them?"

"Oh, that was easy. You see, the queen's darling Robert..."

"Robert? My, my..." Beka clicked her tongue, sounding surprised.

"What?" Loreena asked nonplussed.

"Nothing," the blonde dismissed it, "it was just that I was thinking of something more in the line of Cambyses or Siegfried – you know, more flamboyant..."

"Ha, ha, very funny!" Rhade threw in annoyed.

"Well, what do you expect? Gaharis, Tyr, Telemachus, Barbarossa, Chuchulian... You must admit that Robert is… refreshingly normal... Almost enough so to make me want to throw my vote in for him. If I'd had a vote on this one, that is... "

"Well, your enthusiasm may get somewhat dampened by the fact that normal Robert is not only shrewd and ruthless, brutal and hungry for power, but also the one who stole the lances."

"I see; indeed it does," Beka admitted dryly. "How did he do it?"

"He's very well connected with the High Guard: not only has his father's pride recently been accepted into the Commonwealth, the queen also happens to be a member of one of the Commonwealth's royal houses."

"Ah, those..." Rhade nodded, knowingly. "They're all nothing but trouble," he added with a smirk towards Beka. "Which one is it?"

"The House of Sangre."

Into the descending silence one could have heard grass growing.

"What?" Loreena wanted to know, as the quiet persisted.

"Nothing," the lieutenant commander replied at last, after a furtive glance to the side had showed him that Beka's face betrayed nothing. "Just as I said: they're all trouble..."

"What's her name?" his commanding officer asked, before their interlocutor could respond.

"Tamara."

"Not Thalia?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

Telemachus Rhade bowed lightly down to Beka:

"Just how many lost princesses of blood does this House of Sangre actually have, exactly?" he whispered to her. The blonde ignored him, her eyes still focused on the other woman.

"And the pride?" she asked her. "Vineta?"

Loreena nodded. There was a quick exchange of glances between the two High Guard officers. Seeing it, the 'princess' elaborated further:

"I know what you're thinking: that it still doesn't make sense. But the thing is, you're wrong. By stealing the lances, Robert has gained a tremendous advantage in a system where nothing more powerful than a machine-gun can be used, because it might cause chain-reactions that could blow us all up. He probably brought them to his headquarters already, the Kanggay–fortress about 200 miles from here." By now, she sounded frightened.

"They are prototypes, Tura," Beka said patiently. "Even if he now has them, he's a long, long way from mass-production and the possibility to arm his men with them."

"Yes, but the threat alone is enough. Besides: we all know it that he could not have gotten hold of them without inside-help from the Commonwealth. This greatly enhances his clout with a lot of people."

"The Commonwealth has its black sheep, too. Just because someone helped..." the _Maru_'s captain started, but Rhade interrupted:

"True, but this is Prolon, and there's no accounting for who might think what around here."

Beka threw him a long look and sighed:

"I have always wondered why Dylan keeps saying this, but..." She hesitated, and then she sighed again: "Politics! It's never easy, is it?"


	13. Suggestions strong

_Suggestions – Strong _

The captain of the _Andromeda Ascendant_ was flying the _Star of Nephtis_, carefully moving forward through the Prolon-system, in silence – and sulking. The senator had started a few more attempts to engage him in a conversation, but then, one or ten monosyllabic answers further down the line, decided to give it up. She now sat close to him, contemplating the small pout around his lips with the indulgent, more than just slightly superior smile of a well-meaning, old, experienced teacher towards a naughty boy. She had to admit it, he was a man to her taste, who behaved exactly as a man should (in her eyes): strong – and childish. He and that pig-headed first officer of his, they were quite a pair. Pity that she had to intervene in that. Such a waste! Alas, it could not be helped.

"Captain, if I may..."

"Yes?"

"I suggest we try to look for a proper landing place around here," Thalia van Oudekerk told him, her finger indicating a spot on the planet's holographic image quite far away from Prolon's seat of power Lerna. Dylan frowned.

"Why should we? There's nothing there..."

"You're wrong."

The frown deepened – as did the pout. _Cute_, the senator thought. She stretched out her hand, once more cupping his chin.

"Has anyone ever told you how sweet you look when you are at a loss?"

With a violent move he freed his face from her.

"Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?" he fumed.

"Oh yes, many. And many times, too," the older woman grinned – broadly. And for the first time since he had met her, Dylan could detect a resemblance with Beka. But instead of endearing the senator to him, it only reminded him with even more urgency of the fact that she had come aboard the _Andromeda Ascendant,_ caused trouble, made Beka leave on her own (okay, with Rhade, but the way things were between his second- and third-in-command, the chances of Rhade's more placid temper being able to determine Beka to more caution amounted to... Dylan didn't even want to think about it), and was now... _By the Divine, what is she actually doing?_ he asked himself nonplussed. _Is she really making a pass at me, is she trying to conceal some ulterior motives and schemes, is she just angry because I forced her to come along and trying to be as annoying as possible?_ He sighed. _Probably all of the above,_ he told himself. _After all, it runs in the family._

"You haven't answered my question about our landing place. What's there?"

"The Kanggay-fortress, Fort Boyard and the Magdala-castle, all of them in sight of each other."

"I probably forgot to mention it before leaving, but... there won't be any time for sightseeing on this trip," Dylan pointed out sharply.

"The royal family of Prolon resides in those three places," Thalia explained. And then she crisply briefed him on the current political situation on Prolon, concluding: "The Kanggay-fortress is Prince Robert's stronghold, Boyard the Queen's residence – and the king is mostly at Magdala. And he has summoned up the entire family for a... reunion there. It's more than likely that the lances will be one of the topics. And that the vast majority of the people present won't be too happy about it. We can find ourselves some strong allies there."

Dylan looked at her dumbfounded, with his mouth slightly open.

"This... this... Tamara of Oudekerk..." he ventured in the end. "Where does she fit in the broader genealogic picture of the Valentine/Sangre-family?"

"My sister. Beka's aunt."

_Andromeda_'s captain swallowed. _Great, now there's three of them! And this last one even seems to have gotten serious with the family's customary penchant for Nietzscheans. Vineta-pride, no less. Why does it always have to turn out that both Rommie's and Harper's paranoia is right when it comes to them? And why don't I listen to them?_

He clenched his jaws and programmed the coordinates Thalia had indicated. She smiled. _Good boy_, she thought approvingly, then gave out a contented sigh. She loved it when things went according to plan.

/

"Let me get this straight: you plan to just land the _Eureka Maru _next to Magdala, walk in there and then... what?" Once more Telemachus Rhade didn't sound too happy. _Ah, Rhade – our very own bundle of joy,_ Beka thought, watching him with a half-indulging, half-annoyed expression, _once more reaching a peak of optimism and enthusiasm about one of his superiors' decisions. He might have a point there. But then again, he isn't exactly known for his sunny disposition._

"Then we introduce ourselves to Tig, explain that we've come to lessen the troubles his devoted son and crown-prince is likely to cause him, ensure ourselves his support and take it from there."

"Meaning that you haven't really thought this through, right?"

"Rhade, you heard Loreena... I mean Tura, of course," she corrected herself. "Things have changed drastically around here and do not any longer correspond to what we've seen last year – nor do they match the intel the Commonwealth has on Prolon. We will have to fly by the seat of our pants for a bit." She saw him press his lips together, unconvinced and weary. "Don't worry, Commander. I'm quite good at that."

His lips pressed even tighter upon each other, but then the High Guard officer nodded briefly, turned around and left the cockpit. Obviously just so he could keep himself from saying something to his second-in-command that he might've regretted later.

"He seems... a bit tight, no?" Loreena inquired, sounding a little as if she was just making an attempt at polite conversation.

"Well," Beka drawled, not diverting her eyes from her instruments, "he's Nietzschean."

"Yes, I noticed that they all have a slight tendency to that."

"Must be all of this superiority, I guess. I can imagine it getting tiresome occasionally," the _Maru_'s captain joked.

There was a brief silence, one that Loreena found uncomfortable, apparently.

"So, tell me," she began anew, "did you ever... I mean... you know... with a Nietzschean?"

An incredulous smile appeared on Beka's lips. _Girls' talk? _She shook her head slowly.

"What?" she then decided to give in to her passenger's poor try at finding a suitable topic. "Have an affair with one? Oh yes," she admitted.

"And... a relationship?"

Beka rolled her eyes. So this was what it was all about: Loreena tried to find out how married life with King Tig would probably turn out.

"In terms of a long, prosperous, trusting partnership with love and respect and all that?" _Andromeda_'s XO shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Not really. But then again: I never really had such a thing with any man, Nietzschean or not."

Loreena's eyes grew wide.

"Really? Why not?"

Beka shrugged her shoulders.

"Don't know." She sighed. "Really, I don't. They're... men."

"So?"

"So I don't get them."

"Have you never tried to... study them?"

"Sheesh, Tura, of course I tried. And in the process I've discovered that they're... like elephants for me. I like to **look **at them, but I wouldn't want to **own **one."

"Still," Loreena insisted, "all those things you said: love and respect and all that... It sounds nice."

"If that's what you really look for, you should've stuck with Dylan."

There was a brief pause. A glance over her shoulder showed Beka the other woman deep in thought. And then she heard the next question.

"Is he rich?"

"Who? Dylan? No, I'm afraid not. Dylan is a great many things, but no-one could ever accuse him of having a head for business. And the Commonwealth is not exactly a generous employer."

There was a regretting click of tongue behind her.

"Ah, a pity. That leaves him out then. The whole thing between him and me would have been a tragedy under the circumstances."

"Oh, I don't know," Beka argued, "who knows? It might have surprised you. Life with Dylan is... more like a romantic adventure..." she teased.

"What? Staying with a man for love and then discover that he has no money? This ain't a romantic adventure, that's a tragedy all right."

The blonde had to laugh at that – and at the conviction she detected in Loreena's voice. _She too might have a point there, _she mused for a second. _Then again: maybe not._


	14. Plots unfolding

_Plots – unfolding _

The great hall of Magdala was full of people, all gathering around enormous tables nearly bending with the masses of food and drink they carried and that were placed to form a horse-shoe that took up most of the room's long sides as well as the far, short end of it, that was slightly elevated by a small, wooden stage clearly meant to host the guests of honour. And it was on this stage that Beka and Rhade found themselves seated, in the imminent vicinity of Loreena Blodget aka Princess Tura, who was just one more chair further up the line, on the right side of the two centre seats, two massively carved, gilded thrones of sorts, that were still unoccupied.

Quietly observing the crowds (of whom many were openly carrying arms – ancient looking blades and knives of impressive length, maybe not as effective as force lances or gauss-guns, but effective enough if oneself didn't have them) surrounding them with furrowed brows, Telemachus Rhade had already created a small void around himself due to his sombre expression and the periodically, if lowly muttered curses that escaped him every now and then. It was with some satisfaction that he noticed Beka Valentine to not look completely at ease herself.

"Why don't we just leave here?" he asked in a whispered tone, bending towards her.

"Umm, hello?" The sharp, annoyed voice of his commanding officer betrayed nothing of the anxiety that he could see hidden in the depths of her gaze. "Leave? We just got here because we need the king's support to retrieve the lances, remember? Dammit, Rhade..."

"I know that, it's just that I would much prefer if we could be some place less obvious while waiting to see the king. By the way, where is he?"

"Oh, I'm sure he is somewhere around..." Beka told him.

"So then, why isn't he coming?"

"Because he is coming fashionably late?" she suggested in a bored tone.

"Great!" the Nietzschean muttered under his breath.

Leaning in towards Beka from the other side, Tura threw him an amused look.

"Trouble?" she wanted to know from a corner of her mouth.

"Not really. Just Rhade chickening out because so many of your fellow courtiers are so..." Beka hesitated, but then mischief flashed up in her eyes: "...well-hung..." she concluded, with a small, soft chuckle that triggered one from the fake princess in response.

"Tell him to not worry too much. You're perfectly safe here, my word is sufficient around Magdala to keep you out of harm's way. Instead, he should better think about ways to get quickly away from Prolon once you retrieved the lances."

"Did you hear that, Rhade?" Beka wanted to know. "You're supposed to be thinking!"

"I **am **thinking," the High Guard replied, sounding even more angered. "I'm thinking: why don't we leave here?" he repeated, a stubborn trait firmly in place around his mouth.

Beka sighed. _Nietzscheans and their obsession with survival_, she thought half-amused, half-concerned. Slowly letting her eyes roam the hall, she had to admit though that to some extent Rhade was quite right: they were all alone amidst masses of armed, potentially hostile people, with nothing but Tura's clout as protection and her assessment that King Tiglatpilassar would welcome their quest to retrieve the lances and provide them with support and a guide to sneak into his son's strong-hold. Not exactly the stuff success-stories were made of.

Reaching this point in her train of thought, the captain of the _Maru_ felt her own mood slightly taking a dive for the low side, vaguely aware that it would have helped a lot with that if the damn guest of honour would have made his appearance already, so that they could have proceeded with serving the food. She was starving!

It was thus with slight anticipation that she heard the fanfare from the balcony finally announcing the monarch's arrival.

Pushing their chairs behind them and standing up as they observed all other guests do it, the eyes of the two Commonwealth-officers widened in surprise: through the huge double doors, surrounded by a vast, opulently clad escort of impressively tall, well-built, ferociously looking Nietzscheans and striking, if remarkably young beauties, Prolon's sovereign emerged, not quite the figure the two High Guard would have expected: he looked a lot more than just half-Nietzschean, but older that they would have thought, although still barely in his mid-fifties, his figure rather tall and well-proportioned, but covered in a plain, dull-brown attire, his face displaying a full beard slightly darker than the unruly, blond-silvery bangs on his head, an impressive beak of a nose and a pair of twinkling blue eyes. Involuntarily, Beka had to smile: she always had had a soft spot for men with a twinkle in the eye.

He pushed quickly through the surrounding file and rank and reached the small wooden stage speedily. Standing in front of his seat, he let his eyes wander through the vast hall, greeted the audience with a regal nod, then sat down gracefully, with only a slight bow to his right towards Tura, who had – to Beka's immense surprise – dropped a perfect curtsy.

"Tura, my dear..." the man now said in a low, rich timbre. _Even his voice has a twinkle_, Beka thought rather pleased.

"My king," the addressed lady purred with a radiant smile, allowing his hand supporting her arm below the elbow to straighten her up and manoeuvre her into her own seat. It seemed to be some sort of sign, at which all others present also sat down in a cacophony of chairs scraping across the floors. And then, her smile deepening: "May I introduce Captain Rebekkah Valentine of the _Eureka Maru _and Lieutenant Commander Telemachus Rhade, Your Majesty?"

The king, still smiling but with eyes more cautious, nodded towards them.

"Captain and commander of what, my dear?" he inquired softly.

"The High Guard," the dark beauty at his side answered lowly.

The monarch's eyes widened.

"The Commonwealth?" The smile on his lips seemed at the same time to grow both broader and thinner. "How thrilling. And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Your Majesty," Beka decided to enter the scene, "we were hoping that we could be of assistance."

"Really?" Tiglat drawled. "Do I need your assistance?"

"You might," the blonde replied with a grin.

"How so?"

"Force lance prototypes have been stolen on Terrazed. We traced them to the Prolon."

"But wouldn't in that case you be more in need of my assistance rather than the other way 'round?"

"Not if we traced them right to your eldest son, Your Majesty," Beka softly retorted, her grin gaining in brilliance.

Tiglatpilassar's eyes darted from her to Tura and back again to the blonde, after receiving a small, affirmative nod from his... Rhade, observing the scene, frowned: actually, what **exactly** was that woman to Prolon's king? But then his attention returned to the conversation between the sovereign and his commanding officer.

"And have you?" the monarch challenged with a defiant expression, but then sighed upon seeing Beka hold his gaze. "My, my... I have proclaimed a... cease-fire of sorts and invited my queen and all my sons to join us in Magdala in a celebration of our family's rise to power. And they have accepted, all of them - surprisingly enough. I foresee complications..."

"That's one way to put it," Rhade inserted surly. Beka laughed up, sounding almost joyful. Upon hearing that, Tiglat could not prevent himself from throwing her yet another long, appreciative look.

"You don't seem too worried..." he ventured with a smile. The amazing grin broadened even further.

"I'm not the worrying type."

"Yes, I can see that. Still: you may find out that we are all a rather... impressive lot."

"So I hear. Well, I've never been opposed to being impressed by..." She hesitated slightly, but then shrugged. "Let's just say 'opposed to being impressed'."

The monarch laughed up.

"I think I like you. Ah... if I were only about 10 years younger..."

With a slightly insolent look towards the king's female entourage, who had placed themselves decoratively behind them, Beka allowed herself a small chuckle.

"Oh, I don't know if that would have helped. You see, I am already old enough to vote..."

"We don't vote much on Prolon..." he joked.

"A well, that's explains it then. Still: I am also old enough to have been out of school for quite some time ow..."

He had to laugh at that.

"I see I don't have a chance. Well... we'll see: maybe my sons could interest you. And then we may see what my queen thinks of you..."

"Does that matter?"

"Should it not?"

"I don't know... From what I hear she is more like... _still_ your queen..."

"Indeed, but until that changes she is my queen regardless... And let me assure you: while we might be impressive, she is... positively awesome." The fanfare flaring up interrupted him. He turned his eyes away from Beka and Rhade and straightened up in his chair. "Ah, here she comes..."

Both officers followed his gaze to the doors, through which indeed the queen and her entourage just stepped into the hall.

"Drago's bones!" Rhade cursed, his eyes widening, while Beka's jaw went slack.


	15. Family Ties relative

_15. Family-Ties – relative_

The Commonwealth-officers stared wide-eyed at the slender figure, who was slowly moving down the aisle dividing the huge hall, nodding to the left and right, a gracious smile on her lips. Trying to process what they saw, both Beka and Rhade just sat there, struggling for words.

It was Rhade who finally found his voice first:

"I… I don't get it…"

Ignoring his comment, Beka suddenly leant forward towards the table, so that she could see Tura, who was meanwhile sitting on the chair placed next to the vacant seat on the other side of the king.

"Who is this?" she hissed lowly, her eyes ablaze with anger.

Before Tura could answer, the man between them threw in:

"My queen. I told you that she is quite impressive…" He sounded proud and annoyed alike. In a fluent move, he stood up, a broad, if slightly insincere smile on his lips, stepping away from the table and to the side, signaling a deferential gesture of greeting. Beka jumped to her feet, as did all people seated at the table placed on the small stage. Taking advantage of the general commotion and the fact that all attention was focused on the woman approaching them, the _Maru_'s captain moved closer to Loreena Blodget.

"I thought you said the queen's name was _Tamara_ van Oudekerk…"

"It is," the former fake princess answered. "That's her!"

"Bullshit! That woman's name is Thalia; **Thalia** van Oudekerk."

"Beka…" Rhade cautioned behind her. She was to upset though, to take him into account. Her hand grabbed Tura's upper arm like in a vice.

"Why did you lie?"

"I didn't. Honestly…"

"Beka…" the former Terrazed admiral tried anew.

"Goddammit, Rhade, save it for later, whatever it is…"

"Beka!" he hissed aggressively once more.

"What?"

"She could be some sort genetic reincarnation…" he whispered.

"Genetic reincarnation of what? We're not Nietzscheans; no, it's her all right."

"Twins?" Rhade didn't give up.

"I…" She had meant to brush off his input, saying that she never had heard of her mother having a twin sister, but then again… Truth was that she had no idea at all about the maternal side of her family. Other than vague memories of stories about how things used to be grand where her mother came from, she couldn't remember anything about them. Just that they were influential, royal… and many. And if her mother was anything to judge by, they were also endowed with a lust for both money and power as well as a fierce selfishness and sense of self-preservation – not necessarily in that order.

Tiglatpilassar's queen had meanwhile reached her husband, who bowed down to embrace her and smilingly place a kiss on her cheek, that she accepted with an equally happy grin. _Like two sharks, sizing each other up in search for the softest spot to dig the teeth in,_ Beka thought while all around her the crowd erupted in deafening cheering.

"I thought they're all fighting to the hilt with each other…" Rhade muttered.

"Within the family," Tura fell in lowly, explaining. "However, down there in that hall you have dozens of other families just waiting for them to miss a step, so they can replace them. Whatever killing ambitions they might entertain towards each other, I'm sure that both the king and the queen, along with their off-spring have their mind set on not endangering the dynasty… You do see my problem?"

"Politics," the Nietzschean wheezed in disdain. Beka nodded. She couldn't agree with him more. Before she got a chance to answer him, however, the king turned around and motioned her to come nearer.

"My dear," he addressed his wife, "may I introduce Captain Rebekkah Valentine of the High Guard and Lieutenant Commander Telemachus Rhade to you."

"We've met," Beka offered dryly.

Surprised, Tiglat's eyebrows rose, while his eyes moved inquiringly back to the petite woman at his side.

"You have?" he asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," the queen replied with a distant, slightly ironic smile, her eyes however conveying a world of meaning to Beka. _Play along nicely_, they said. Seeing it, the captain of the _Eureka Maru_ felt a cold-ish line trickle down her spine.

"I…" she began, then cleared her throat. "I must have mistaken you for someone else, then," she concluded lamely.

"Yes, that happens often," Tamara said pleasantly, allowing Tiglat to bring her to her seat. "Tura, my dear," she then added with a bright smile, "would you mind sitting next to my dear, dear husband and let Captain Valentine take your seat? You see, it's been a long, long while since I had the opportunity to meet with any of my relatives not resident on Prolon." There were audible gasps from both the fake princess and the real king, that she ignored however, patting the place next to her with her hand and motioning Beka to join her. "Come on, my dear. You are my sister's baby girl, no?"

Letting himself fall down, Tiglat leaned over his wife's seat to get a better look at Beka.

"You're my wife's niece? Why didn't you say so?"

"I… I didn't know who your wife is," Beka offered, ignoring Tura's eyes opening wide in astonishment behind the king's back. "And even had I known: my liens to my mother's family are… well, practically inexistent."

"Is that so?" Tiglat drawled. "Ts, ts… Why am I not surprised?"

"I don't know," the blonde retorted, her eyes opened wide in an innocent expression. "Why aren't you?"

He merely laughed, his demeanor clearly indicating that he was really starting to enjoy himself. With a shrug, _Andromeda_'s XO leant back in her chair, her face now hidden from him.

"We need to talk," she then whispered to the woman next to her, her lips barely moving.

The queen continued the ironic exchange of pleasantries with Tiglat, to the point of making Beka wonder if she had not been too soft in her tone. But then the older woman raised her cup to her lips – and whispered back, from a corner of her mouth:

"We will, just as soon as…"

She didn't get to finish. Fanfares interrupted her, announcing a new arrival – and as the doors swung open once more, they all could see three tall, splendidly clad young men standing on the threshold, who waited there for an instant, until the hall once more stood up in greeting as the brothers – the family resemblance even at this distance evident – slowly began their walk towards the far end of the hall.

They were all three displaying slightly darker hair than their father, and although they resembled him in built, all three moved along with their mother's somewhat atavistic grace. At least the tallest of them did, who had resumed a position in the middle, a strikingly good-looking fellow, who'd have seemed even handsome, had there not been a brutal, cruel, condescending air about him that seemed to ooze from his every pore. The other, slightly shorter brothers appeared less powerful, but not necessarily more harmless: the one on the right was the more relaxed of the three, with half-closed eyelids and a small, distant smile on his lips, that probably was meant to be friendly, but fell very short of sardonic. The youngest could barely be considered a grown-up, his more lanky figure a bit of an unfinished business, his somewhat sulking expression announcing the spoilt brat from afar. _What lovely creatures_, Beka thought mustering the three of them as they advanced through the hall.

"My dear," Tiglatpilassar's voice addressing his wife interrupted her thoughts, "exactly what does Robert expect from this family reunion?"

The queen just turned her head towards him, with an inquiring look in her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"The chain mail?"

Indeed, the younger man was displaying a chain mail reminding Beka of Tyr Anasazi, although this one was casually thrown over a rich-blue, velvet jerkin.

"Oh, you know Robert…" Tamara or Thalia or whatever her name was said vaguely. "It's probably just for show. He looks wonderful, though, don't you think?"

"Of course he does," the king mildly replied. "I hear he just put out a rebellion in the lower regions. There's nothing like a bit of fighting to lift his spirits. I have always noticed that… slaughter becomes him."

"Well, on a battlefield…"

"He made 6000 prisoners, had 5000 of them executed…" the king concluded dryly.

The queen disapprovingly clicked her tongue.

"Oh dear, yes… He's always had a bit of a temper, that's for sure. I believe he needs a wife…"

"So does William, I think," Tiglat added to that.

The woman's eyes lazily moved from their eldest son to the man on his right.

"Why? Is he violent, too? That would be news."

"No, no," her husband fenced off the suggestion. "He is just… sneaky, devious, always planning and scheming. Having a wife and cheating on her might distract him.."

" Tiglat, my love, why should it? He is your son, no? It never kept **you** distracted for a long time…"

"Still, it might… keep him from plotting treason, for a while."

"So that you have at least one of them out of your hair?" she asked pensively. "That might work."

"Oh, I'd only have Robert then to take care of. Stephen is loyal…"

"Give him time. He is not as smart as William and doesn't have Robert's strength yet, but he is smart and strong enough to realise that at 16 years of age he still has plenty of time to wait until he gets both smarter and stronger. He's loyal – until then…"

_Lovely_, Beka thought, listening to the conversation and getting more and more nervous by the second. _And I thought **my **family to be dysfunctional. _

The princes had almost reached them, so both the kind and queen stood up, followed by everyone around them.

"Come on, my dear," Tiglatpilassar motioned his wife. "It's show time. Let's pretend that we're both fond of our children."

"Right," the queen hissed through her teeth, that shone radiantly in a bright smile. "Would it very much surprise you if I confessed that I don't really like any of them much?"

"Not at all, this is one feeling of yours that I can fully relate to." He turned around towards his first-born and opened his arms widely. "Robert, my dear, dear Robert!"

"My darling sons!" his wife next to him almost crooned in a voice so sincere that Beka couldn't help herself from throwing her a checking gaze. Still: another look into the faces of the three young men showed her that the senator turned royal harpy was fooling no-one.

And then there was some shuffle as pleasantries got exchanged, more chairs were brought and the regal misfits sat down and began a conversation just as low-keyed and deadly as the one _Andromeda_'s second-in-command had witnessed. Time seemed to crawl for Beka – and for Rhade too, who had seen himself finally rejoined with her due to the new sitting arrangements. He had at first tried to start a conversation, but the _Maru_'s captain seemed consumed with curiosity and paid clearly more attention to her eavesdropping attempts than to anything he had to say.

"Trying to find out what they plan to do to each other?" he at long last ventured once more.

This time, though she answered:

"That too. More than that however, I'd like to find out what they plan to do with us. And why she went to such lengths to lure us here."

"Your aunt?"

"That… woman," Beka snorted, "whoever she is…"

"You think, she lied?"

"Oh Rhade, I probably will never cease to marvel at the quickness of your mind!"

"Maybe she is your mother, after all," the Nietzschean replied to that, a somber expression in his eyes.

"And how did you figure that out?"

"You sometimes sound like her."


	16. Intentions best

_16. Intentions – Best_

"It is you, isn't it?"

Sitting opposite each other in two sumptuous seats placed in front of the huge fireplace in the queen's vast quarters, the two women mustered each other with cautious, unkind eyes.

"Do you mean _me _as in your mother or your aunt?"

"I mean you as in the woman who came aboard our ship saying she was Thalia of Oudekerk…"

"Yes, it's me. But I suspect that this is not the only question you want to ask me."

"No, there is another."

"Just one?" The dark-haired older woman seemed a bit taken aback. "All right, go ahead."

"Why?"

The dark eyes widened even more, the puzzlement growing.

"You surprise me. I would have thought that what you'd want to know most is whether I really am your mother."

Beka shrugged.

"My mother, her sister, my uncle's first wife's best friend's cousin – it's all the same to me. One way or the other, you are just a stranger. One who came to us, maybe posing a threat, maybe just causing some problems for my ship, my crew, my friends. As far as I'm concerned, they're family, you're not. So yes, the only question I really want answered is: why the charade? I don't suppose it is really about those force-lances…"

"You're right, it isn't. They're… a bonus, a nice addition, if you so want. But it's not about them. It's about you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I need you. My son needs you."

"Which son? Needs me for what?"

"Robert. He needs you for a wife…"

Beka Valentine had been leaning forward in her seat, as if on the edge, the more puzzling the answers had gotten. But now she let herself drop back into her chair, staring at the woman in front of her mouth agape in utter bewilderment.

"Come again?" she finally ventured, after several unsuccessful attempts to say something.

"You don't understand…"

"No kidding," Beka snorted. "Just what damned game do you think you're playing? What the devil is this all about? Why are you doing all this? How did you get here anyway? And **who** the hell are you?"

"Ah, I see you've got more questions, after all… I am Tamara van Oudekerk, your aunt."

"How did you manage to set up all of this? And how did you fool _Andromeda_ into thinking you were my mother?"

"I've got my ways. As for your ship: she checked the face, the DNA… It fitted. Your mother and I are identical twins."

"Still: a thorough check-up should have revealed…"

"Ah, yes," Tamara interrupted. "And a thorough check-up **would **have revealed whatever you wish. Only: I came aboard a ship that had a course plotted from Terrazed, I have your mother's face, my DNA and yours match to some degree, and most people don't even know I exist. Those force-lances **had** been stolen, and you **had** received word from the Triumvirate that a senator was on the way for an investigation, right? No-one thought a check-up more thorough than that necessary."

"But why?"

"I told you…"

"What I mean is: why do you need me?" Beka asked impatiently.

"I thought that you were able to put the pieces together by now. Why do you think that Tiglat and I let you eavesdrop on our conversation earlier on at dinner?"

"Because you couldn't care less?" the _Maru_'s captain offered ungraciously. The other woman had to laugh at that.

"Not quite. **He** couldn't care less. **I** do. You see, the trouble is that Tiglat and me basically both want the same thing…"

"A son for a king," Beka concluded for her.

Tamara nodded pensively.

"A son for a king," she confirmed. "Only: I'm done with bearing sons. Apparently he isn't. He wants to repudiate me, get that bitch in my place, have more sons…"

"Funny, by the look of it, I'd have thought that sons would be just about the last thing he needs more of," the blonde said with a nasty undertone.

"Precisely," the queen confirmed. "But it doesn't stop him. You do see my problem?"

"Not quite. Why would me marrying your son keep your husband from going through with his plans?"

"One of the pillars of Tiglat's strong position within the Prolon-system are his ties to the new ally of the Commonwealth, the Vineta-pride. But if Robert marries you, _his _ties to it would be stronger. Imagine: having the founding mother of the Commonwealth at his side… Why, no-one could touch him or his claim!"

"There is no such thing as a 'founding mother'…" Beka objected.

"I was speaking in metaphors."

"Don't." Arms crossed on her chest, Beka began to pace up and down with furrowed brows, then stopped again in front of the huge fire-place. "That's a crazy idea. You can't force me to do it…"

"No?" The question came so quietly, in a tone so utterly uninterested that Beka felt a chill run down her spine. Her eyes narrowed.

"You think differently?"

Lazily, Tamara turned around and went over to a table, pouring herself some wine there.

"Strange," she drawled after taking a sip, "you never asked how I got here…"

Beka shrugged her shoulders.

"I imagine you pulled some High Command trick on Dylan, forcing him to let you…"

"Oh no, I didn't have to force him at all. Nonetheless, he's here…"

It didn't escape Tamara that Beka suddenly stood there more erect. And stiffer.

"You… you abducted Dylan…?" she at long last ventured, incredulously.

"Ha! No, no, of course not," Tamara laughed at that. "You see, Beka darling, **he** abducted **me**." She took another sip, calmly. "Or so he thought," she then concluded dryly.

"What did you do with him?"

The question sounded casual, but there was no mistaking the look in the eyes of _Andromeda_'s second-in-command for anything less than murderous. Tamara's eyes widened in faked surprise.

"Why, nothing… I had him escorted to very comfortable quarters – well, as comfortable as can be expected, considering Tiglat's Spartan tastes. I even had Rhade sent to him for company, so that the two of them won't get bored. I suspect your precious lads are by now enjoying the content of our exquisite wine-cellars and swapping war-stories…"

_I wouldn't bet on that_, Beka thought, taking great care that nothing of what she felt could be seen on her face: not the relief, not the worry, not even the anger… The effort didn't go unnoticed by Tamara, who sat down again, carefully arranging the folds of her gown.

"So," she then asked as casually as Beka had sounded before, "are you willing to consider my proposal – now that you know that they're safe…?

_I can hear a 'yet' lingering there_, the blonde realized. With an impatient shrug, she turned around to leave.

"I will think about it," she conceded. "But first I want to see them."

"Of course," the queen nodded, pressing a small button inserted in her armrest. The door opened up revealing a soldier.

"Would you please escort Captain Valentine to our Commonwealth-guests, Major?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

With a short nod and a harsh look, Beka left with the guard. Tamara sipped once more from her wine, then leant back into the chair, a pleased smile on her lips, remembering Beka's question about her Nietzschean guards from the first time they met:  
_  
"Your pretty boys, do they work?"_

Somehow, she felt the need to repeat her then-answer aloud now:

"Oh yes," she murmured softly, "pretty boys **always **work."


	17. Discussions unsurprising

_17. Discussions – unsurprising_

"Psst…"

Beka nearly threw a punch at the cloaked figure dragging her into the shadows of one of the corridors she was passing through. She had dismissed the guard accompanying her mere instants before, telling him that she didn't need a guide. Under orders to give all guests present the courtesy to enjoy the freedom of the castle, the major had described the way to her and left. Despite her manifested bravado though, Beka was weary, nervous – and in a vaguely aggressive mood. It took her a moment to recognise her interceptor.

"Tura… What do you want?"

"Just a quick talk with you."

"What, now? Look, I'm rather busy…"

"I know," the fake princess hissed at _Andromeda_'s XO. "And I even know what you're busy with."

Beka stared at her in astonishment, then forcefully pulled her arm out of the vice-like grip.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't try to fool me, Valentine. You're thinking about taking Tamara up on her offer."

"Ah." Understanding descended upon the blonde's features. "You're fearing that if I agree to it, you'll have to kiss your plans of grandeur good-bye."

"No, I don't. I don't deny that the old harpy's plans are making me uncomfortable, but in the end I'll win. Tiglatpilassar loves me…"

"Really? Well, I don't know about that. He doesn't seem like the kind of man much addicted to… sentiments. And even if he does: does he love you enough to make you his… Helen of Troy? You see, Tura, what legends tell us is all very nice and well, but in the end only very few men are willing to go to war over a woman – no matter how formidable or beautiful or extraordinary she might be. Especially not with their sons."

"He might be willing to go to war over Tamara, though…"

Beka's eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"His interests and hers… they truly don't coincide. Why do you think that she wants one of her sons to marry so desperately?"

"I suspect you're better at explaining that mystery than I am…"

"Her solar systems…"

"Her what?"

"Her dowry. Leon, Prussia and Oblomov. Your royal grandmother of Sangre – when she died, she left to each of her daughters three solar systems. Those were the ones Tamara got…"

Beka had to whistle at that.

"Wow! Some dowry. Three of the mightiest, most prosperous systems in the Known Worlds. Lots of people, lots of wealth, lots of venues."

"And lots of trouble. The systems belong to Tiglat for as long as none of his sons marry. As soon as that happens though, every one of them is by birthright entitled to take over their mother's dowry for the bride, who becomes the respective system's new ruler, bound only by allegiance to her own house. If that bride is you, what your husband gets will be yours to dispose of – and by consequence also back into Tamara's hands, since your house and hers are one and the same. She wants nothing but to rebuild her own power base…"

"Of course…" Beka agrees. The other woman looked surprised.

"You know…?"

The _Maru_'s captain shrugged.

"I knew she stands to gain something big by all this scheming. Otherwise she wouldn't have gone through all this trouble…" She laughed up quietly, her eyes slightly mocking Tura. "I can see why you're so worried, though… I take it you don't have three solar systems to throw into the bargain? No, I didn't think so…"

"What you're gonna do?" the fake princess brushed Beka's input away with an angry frown.

"I'm gonna do what I intended to do a few minutes ago: I'm gonna go see Dylan."

"Dylan?"

"Oh yes. It appears that my formidable aunt not only managed to get here, but also managed to… make Dylan accompany her – and have him think that it was him calling the shots."

"That surprises you? I clearly remember him being rather prone to being lured by women into all sort of… predicaments…"

It was Beka's turn to frown angrily.

"Oh, I don't know. The way I know him, he very seldom is prone to being lured into predicaments all the way."

"Ah… yes. However: back then he did have his secret weapon to use against me, right? Now though, that his secret weapon is herself in trouble…"

_Andromeda_'s XO laughed in disdain.

"Oh, you're speculating, Tura. And you're speculating in the wrong direction. He isn't any more likely to lose his head over me than he was over you."

"Really? Then what's he doing here?"

With satisfaction, the dark-haired beauty saw the other woman's eyes narrow.

"You know what? I think I'm gonna find out right this instant."

And with that she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the fake princess behind her in the shadows.

/

She strode into the large room lit only by a lively fire burning in the huge fireplace without letting the guards knock and announce her arrival. Predictably, the two men were standing in front of it, turning around in a hurry, with Rhade casually brushing a feet across the heap of ashes on the stoned floor. Both relaxed visibly upon recognizing her visitor.

"Beka!" Dylan exclaimed, coming nearer and grabbing for her shoulders, keeping her at arms' length and scrutinising her. "Are you all right?"

She stared angrily at him, Tura's words still fresh on her mind – and somehow proven by his evident relief at seeing her unharmed. Noticing it, too, Rhade frowned:

"Of course she is all right," he muttered under his breath, gaining a quick, disapproving look from Dylan. He refrained from any further comments, but a glance at his darkened face clearly showed Beka what he was thinking: _Snake among snakes… She's gonna be just fine – and over our dead bodies, if need be…_ She sighed. To some extent, she could understand him, in view of everything that had happened since his arrival onboard the _Andromeda_. He was wrong, though. She knew that, the rest of her crew knew it – and Rhade would find out soon enough. Most importantly: Dylan knew it, too. At which point in her train of thought, she felt her anger with him flare up again. Damn' that man, why did he have to come? Wiggling herself out of his grip, she stepped back from him:

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, what the hell were you thinking, taking off like that without a word?"

"I didn't. I left you a message…"

"Yeah. Stating that you're off to Prolon with no back-up."

"I've got Rhade…"

"Right. And lots of good did he do you."

"Well, we're only now getting to that point…"

"What?" Dylan's eyes narrowed.

"Rhade and his usefulness… Might come into action, now that everybody's here and we know that the force-lances are somewhere else…"

It seemed to silence Dylan for an instant.

"You know where the lances are?"

"Yes. They're in Prince Robert's fortress. I only need to find out where exactly; then I want you two to sneak out of here, take the _Maru_, get the lances and get the hell out of Prolon."

"And in this lovely plan: where does all of that leave you?" _Andromeda_'s captain asked suspiciously.

"Here. I'll stay back…"

"With your mother? You think she'll protect you?"

"Oh, she'll protect me all right. Although she's not my mother."

"No your…?" Dylan's eyes trailed from her to Rhade, who merely shrugged. "Fine. Whatever. I don't get it, but I'm sure you'll fill me in sometime within the next twenty years or so… I didn't detect very maternal instincts in her, anyway. What makes you think she'll protect you?"

"She's my aunt, my dearest mother's twin sister; and she needs me…"

"For what?"

"To marry one of her sons and secure her hold on three solar systems."

Dylan drew in a deep breath, then threw his head around:

"Did you know any of this?" he barked at Rhade.

"No," the Nietzschean admitted, "but it sounds like a plan…"

It seemed as if his captain experienced trouble breathing.

"A plan?" he pressed out in a strangled voice. "A plan for what? Suicide?"

"Dear God, Dylan," Beka intervened in a haughty tone, "don't get melodramatic!"

The asphyxiation problem seemed to become more acute.

"I… I…" He grinded his jaws, struggling for words. "Right. After four years… Four damn' years, Beka… **Four**!" he suddenly shouted at her, "after what we've been through together, I find out that you are not just a smuggler, a con-artist, the… most excellent off-spring of an illustrious line of most excellent crooks, but also some sort of… of… aristocrat with blood ties to some royalty of the most decadent, dangerous and powerful kind. And then you run off, and when I find you – on Prolon of all places, you inform me that you're gonna jump ship and marry one of those whackos and… stay here completely on your own. Right," he nodded at her, "of course,** I** am the one melodramatic here…"

Beka cleared her throat.

"So what? Can't take it if another one does the hero-stuff for once?"

"That's not hero-stuff… That's martyrdom – and frankly, lady, I find you woefully lacking in that role!"

"Well, if it's any consolation: I do realize that the plan has certain small flaws, but I'm sure that I'll manage to… "

"You are, eh? Well, I'm not. So if you don't mind, Beka, I'd rather…"

"Drago's ghost, man!" Rhade suddenly exploded. "Stop arguing with her and just issue orders! I swear it, if they'd have had you instead of Moses, there would have been ten suggestions instead of ten commandments…"

"Shut up, Rhade!" both Dylan and Beka sharply threw at him at the same time.

"Oh, good!" the Nietzschean exclaimed. "Something you two agree on…"

For a moment, Dylan looked outraged at both of them.

"Aargh!" he then roared up, brushing his hands through his hair and – turning on his heel – he marched out of the room into the adjacent chamber, smacking the door behind him shut with gusto. At the sight of Rhade's aghast looks, Beka sighed.

"It's not your fault…"

"Oh, I know **that**! Of course it's not my fault. It's yours. And it's already the third time since I came onboard the _Andromeda_ that he's risking everything, including me, because of you… Damn' it, Beka, why don't the two of you just…" He stopped abruptly, biting his lip.

"Don't be ridiculous, Rhade. It's nothing like that… Of course, in that Nietzschean birdbrain of yours there is no room for the notion that people might be motivated by other emotions beside the need to mate. The two of us, we're best friends, not more, but not less either," she hissed before turning around to leave, too.

"Best friends, eh? Oh, I know what you are. You're idiots, both of you," the 'Nietzschean birdbrain' muttered into the empty room.


	18. Talks familiar

_18. Talks – familiar_

Beka sighed audibly.

Although knowing that she had entered the room he had just retreated to without bothering to knock, Dylan did not turn to greet her, didn't betray by so much as a single move that he was aware of her presence there, didn't say a word. He was standing by one of the rather medieval looking bedroom's windows, a narrow, small affair. Not that there would have been much to see outside, where another one of Prolon's foggy, pitch-black nights had settled in.

The sight of his back was familiar: the shoulders squared, his spine straight and stiff as a poker, anger and indignation breathing through every pore of his.

_Here we go again,_ his XO thought annoyed. _Dylan vs Beka, round 2848... Or was it 2849? Oh well, who's counting?... Damn', we don't have time for this._

Which was probably correct, but still too bad, as she was quite aware that – since he was now here – there was no way around getting him to co-operate.

"Dylan..."

"What do you want?"

His voice was dead-still, low and cold – in a strangled sort of way.

"We haven't finished our talk..."

He whirled around and she almost staggered back a few steps. Nope, not cold – ferocious was better fitting.

"Oh, I'm well aware that we haven't finished our talk," Dylan spat at her, his voice no longer low. "We never finish our talks before you haven't pushed all my buttons and driven your points home with me."

Beka stared at him, obviously trying to stay calm and take the heat out of the conversation. If one could call it that... She just hoped she was able to find the right words.

"Dylan, look..." she began.

"Don't patronize me! Don't you dare patronize me now, on top of everything else!"

And that was that.

"Goddammit, man!" she exploded. "This is not the right moment to start a debate on your problems concerning male ego and authority..."

He stopped in the pacing that he had picked up and closed in on her. Again, she almost draw back, but then forced herself to make a stand. _Relax, that's Dylan, whatever he _looks_ like, he's __**not**__ gonna strangle you..._ she thought. _Yet._

She was right. He didn't try to strangle her. He did better.

"_My_ problems with authority? I never had **any** problems with either accepting nor exerting authority before you and your happy gang of loose bullets came along..."

She felt blood rush to her head, and before she knew it, words were out of her mouth, while she was – at the same time – silently cursing her temper... and Dylan, who seemed to be just about the only person able to always make her say things she afterwards regretted. Like now:

"Which might very well be the reason why we found you floating on the event horizon of a black hole for three centuries, badly in need of rescue," she sharply retorted. Then bit her lip.

Dylan tried to answer, but it was quite clear that speech was failing him. He unsuccessfully opened his mouth two or three times, then turned around abruptly, walking over to the fireside, hiding his face away from her, his back turned towards her.

_Damn'!_ Beka pressed her lips together, angry with herself, impatient – and out of time... This wasn't the place, nor the time, nor the mood to have this kind of conversation. Besides: it was a conversation they actually didn't need at all. He was wrong in assuming that she was undermining his authority, and she had no right to strike out at him that way. Having arrived at this point in her thoughts and deciding that she'd seen enough of his backside by now, _Andromeda_'s XO drew in a deep breath:

"Dylan..."

"I never ever wanted anyone to fear me," he interrupted her immediately, so swiftly it didn't even seem like an interruption. It seemed more as if he just had had the idea of talking to her at the same time as she did – and could now not stop himself from continuing. "And I certainly didn't need anyone to be in awe of me, or respect my position just for the captain's rank sake. I've never pulled rank – not really. And I never ever forced anyone to stick by me, who didn't want to. Whatever respect and trust and loyalty I have... I always tried to earn it. I thought I had succeeded in earning it with you, too..."

"You have..." she tried to insert, in a strangled voice.

"Bullshit! You don't leave people you trust and respect always out of the loop; you don't do that to comrades. And you certainly don't do that to..." He stopped and swallowed briefly. "You don't do that to your fellow crew-members, and you don't do that to friends; and for quite some time I even harbored the illusion that we're more than that, more like a family, really..." He stopped again and finally turned around to face her, letting her see how truly at a loss he was. Beka sighed.

"We are," she confirmed gently. "We are. But crews and comrades-in-arms and friends – and even families have hierarchies. And while hierarchies are there to make life simpler, they are also there to be... bypassed. You bypass High Command, I bypass you, the rest try to bypass me – and Harper bypasses everyone. It's... the nature of the beast, Dylan..."

He had to smile at that, almost in spite of himself.

"Is that so?"

She grinned back.

"You know it is..."

"Maybe," he had to concede. "But, Beka..."

"Yes, I know, you feel that I still should have told you, but I've always found it easier and quicker to ask for forgiveness afterwards than wait for permission afore..."

He had to laugh again.

"When have **you** last asked for forgiveness?"

"Well, be fair... It's not as if there's someone I could ask for that. You are... quite unforgiving by nature."

"Right..." he smirked.

"Look, I AM sorry, really... I am. I just... thought it safer to not have the _Andromeda_ again in this stupid system; and after what happened last time with you here, I thought..."

"You know, I DID manage to reach my 39th birthday without you around to protect me. And," he hurriedly continued, raising his index right in front of her nose, "before you point out again that this is what probably got me into a black-hole..."

"I wasn't going to..." Beka cut in, but then had to bite her lip. Dylan's grin got broader at the sight of it.

"Like hell you weren't..." he retorted. "Anyway..." He brushed his fingers through his hair, then spread his arms wide, in a surrendering gesture. "Let's hear that plan of yours and get it over with..."

She didn't give him a chance to reconsider.

"Right, well... I was thinking: I agree to marriage – and we offer Tiglat membership of the Commonwealth and support of his goals, in order to get him to accept..."

"We don't have the authority to..."

"You're Dylan Hunt, I'm Beka Valentine – he's a half-Nietzschean despot, who's been married for decades to a spoiled royal brat," she said curtly. He frowned.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that he doesn't know that."

"But she knows. She's a Commonwealth-senator..."

"No, she is _impersonating_ a Commonwealth-senator. I don't think that my aunt knows..."

Dylan rolled his eyes.

"Your aunt, right... I... Beka, how the hell did she manage to pull this off?"

"I don't know." The _Eureka Maru_'s captain was staring thoughtfully past him, her lower lip sucked in between her teeth, a frown between her brows. She shook her head: "Honestly, I don't know. But let's worry about that when we get back, shall we?"

He shrugged, all of a sudden looking strangely relieved.

"You... you're not saying that just so I agree, do you?" he asked though.

There was a puzzled look in Beka's eyes.

"Say what? That we should worry about this later?"

"No, the... The part about getting back..." Dylan admitted. She stared at him, wide-eyed.

"You think I would want eventually to really stick around those morons?" she asked, incredulously. Dylan fixed her for a second, then shook his head.

"No, of course not. Fine. You agree to marry, we propose a treaty – what next?"

"They have to deliver the force-lance prototype to us – as well as all eventual copies they might have made of it. Commonwealth regulations, no proliferation of weapons, blah, blah, blah..."

"They'll cheat," the Vedran stated dryly, for once deciding to not ignore his clairvoyance in favour of his usual optimism.

"Yep," Beka agreed. "And that's where Rhade comes in. Your darling Tura..."

"She's **not **my darling Tura..."

"You mean you risked getting killed for her, and she isn't even your darling Tura?" the blonde couldn't refrain from teasing. He rolled his eyes. With a grin, she let it drop and continued: "She is very interested in all of this to not happen. She'll be more than willing to do some spying for us and find out, where exactly Robert keeps his secrets in his fortress. And how to get to them..."

"You think she'll manage?"

"She is a really clever girl, resourceful, seductive..." Beka's eyes sparkled with joy at the slight discomfort Dylan was betraying under her scrutiny. "I'm sure she'll manage..."

"Yeah..." the High Guard agreed.

"And once she's found out, we send Rhade and her to blow the damn' place up. You take off to 'inform the Commonwealth' on the newest developments, but get instead the _Maru_ to Rhade, pick him up. I hold the line here till new's about my 'fiance's' regrettable loss reach us. I'm sure he'll take off in a hurry and take me with you. All you then have to do is intercept us..."

"How?"

"You'll think of something," Beka shrugged dismissively.

Dylan stared at her aghast, as if she'd lost her mind...

"What? This is your plan? Let's jump into the mess and let Dylan improvise? What if I **can't** _think of something_?"

A bright, wolfish grin appeared on his XO's face.

"When have you ever **not** thought of something? That's how you earn your keeps." She slapped his shoulder. "Don't worry, tough guy. You are the captain, right? You **always** think of something..."

"Geez, thanks. **Now** I'm the captain... You're a captain, too."

"That's why I came up with the first part of the plan. Just... don't let the Nietzschean think."


End file.
